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LIBRARY 

UNIVFRSITV  OF 
CALIFOfWjfA  - 

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CM'w/f  Stffttrt  tvhJamcM  tM^Jt-vnYi'/irMmaa Cm 


Cluccn  Elizabeth 

From  a  rare  contemporary  Print 


THE 


QU 
G 


aria 


Being  Chofen  Li/rks  of  the  lieign  of 
Q,  ELIZABE  TH,  Seleded  (S 
arranged  by  Fitz.I{oi/  Carrington 


y 

1 

Printed  for  i?.  H.  RUSSELL 

NEW    YORK 

1898 


ENTERED  according  to  adl  of  Congress,  in  the  year 
1898,  by  Robert  Howard  Russell,  in  the  oice  of  the 
Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


^^  ^&  N^  "^  'N''  N**  N*  ^Y  ^4f  ^4r  Nf  ^Y  *^  ^Nf  sT  ^^  3^  3^  ^af  ^^  "Ht  aT  ^s   s^  sT  ^s 
•^  ^  ^  ^  ^  -^  ^  ^  ^  ^  ^  -^  ^  ^  ^  ^  ^  ^  ^  w  w  w  w  ^  ^  W" 

To  the  Reader 

SINCE  Charles  Lamb  re- 
discovered the  Elizabethan 
Dramatists^  so  many  Anthologies 
of  poetry  of  the  Elizabethan  Age 
have  been  published^  that  any  ad- 
dition to  the  number  would  seem^ 
at  first  sights  superfluous ,  Nor 
does  this  little  volume  pretend  to 
do  more  than  give  a  very  small 
view  of  that  rich  field  tuhich^ 
thanks  to  the  labours  of  enthusi- 
astic specialists^  has  of  late  years 
grown  vastly  wider  and  more  ac- 
cessible. It  is^  primarily^  a  pocket 
volume^  one  to  be  carried  and 
read  between  whiles^  both  in  the 


vi  To  THE  Reader 

city^  where  poetry  seems  to  grow 
each  day  harder  to  discover^  and 
in  the  country^  where  the  mind 
should  be  most  open  to  enjoy  its 
beauties.  To  comfort  in  carry- 
ings much  has  been  sacrificed ^  and 
while  as  many  ^' old  favourites'' 
as  possible  have  been  retained^ 
it  has  been  found  necessary  to 
omit  many  beautiful  lyrics  in  or- 
der to  keep  the  volume  within  the 
limits  of  a  true  pocl^et  size.  Noth- 
ing has  been  seleded  that  is  not 
believed  to  be  ^^  choicely  good!' 
The  ^^ labour  of  omission''  has^ 
naturally s  been  greater  in  pro- 
portion to  the  limits  of  space  at 
one's  command^  and  exclusion, 
where  so  much  is  beautiful ^  has 


To  THE  Reader  vii 

been  difficult.  The  Elizabethan 
Age  has  come^  by  general  ac- 
ceptation^ to  include  the  reign  of 
James  /.  and  sometimes  that  of 
Charles  I.  as  well  as  that  of 
Elizabeth^  but  as  I  am  now  pre- 
paring a  companion  volume  to  this 
one^  ofseledionsfrom  the  li/rics  of 
these  two  later  reigns^  the  present 
volume  contains^  with  a  few  ex- 
ceptions^ onlt/  poems  written  prior 
to  1604.  Songs  from  ^^  Antony 
and  Cleopatra^'"  '' Ct/mbeline^' 
and  "  The  Tempest ^"^  though  of 
later  date,  have  been  included^ 
as  it  has  been  thought  best  to  keep 
Shakespeare  s  lyrics  together. 
The  fascination  of  Elizabethan 
literature  to  all  who  have  wan- 


viii  To  THE  Reader 

dered  in  its  enchanted  realms  is 
undeniable^  hut  not  ahvai/s  easy 
to  anal2/ze.  Part  of  it  lies  in  the 
fad  that  here  is  found  for  the  first 
time^  perhaps  for  the  onli/  time  in 
English  literature^  the perfed bal- 
ance of  liomance  and  I(eality^  to- 
gether with  a  language  fresh  and 
plastic^  which  had  scarcely  left 
school  and  which  offered  new 
worlds  of  words  to  explore  and 
conquer.  Each  writer  stamped 
upon  it^  to  a  greater  or  a  lesser 
degree^  according  to  his  genius  or 
his  needs  ^  something  of  his  own  in- 
dividuality. To  be  one's  self  wasy 
with  the  earlier  writers  at  leasts 
a  distind  aim. 
Truly  a  Golden  Age  in  litera- 


To  THE  Reader  « 

ture^  hut  in  mani/  ways  a  dark^ 
cruel  and  tragic  one  to  live  in;  an 
age  that  could  breed  a  Cenci  in 
Italy ^  and  in  France  regard  the 
massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew  as 
a  legitimate  stroke  of  statecraft. 
That  such  an  age  should  be  refleded 
in  its  literature^  was  to  be  expeded. 
Court  life  was  a  pageant.  The  im- 
probable was  the  adual^  the  real 
more  romantic  than  romance. 
Mr.  Ernest  J^hys  so  finely  sums 
up  this  interdependence  of  life 
and  literature^  in  his  Introdudion 
to  the  Lyrical  Poems  of  Sir  Philip 
Sidney^  that  I  cannot  refrain  from 
cjuoting  one  passage. 
*'  In  Sidney  the  personal  radiance 
that  the  poets  are  sometimes  sup- 


X  To  THE  Reader 

posed  to  have^  was  enhanced  hy 
a  hundred  circumstances  of  time 
and  fortune.  His  birth^  his  hoy- 
hood^  his  Elizabethan  opportunity  ^ 
his  hapless  romance^  his  adventure 
across  Europe^  ail  add  to  the 
glamour  of  his  name.  Even  his 
early  and  tragic  deaths  proving 
him  mortal  too  soon^  may  be  said 
to  help  on  his  poets  immortality . 
Up  to  the  moment  when  he  fell  he 
was  set  in  a  march  of  events,  stir- 
rings irresistible;  whose  music  is  so 
often  caught  in  the  heroic  ring  of 
his  lines — 

'High  way,  since  you  my  chief  Parnassus  be. 
And  that  my  Muse,  to  some  ears  not  unsweet. 
Tempers  her  words  to  tramplmg  horses'  feet 
More  oft  than  to  a  chamber-melody!' 

There  is  more  than  this  in  Sidney's 


To  THE  Reader  xi 

note,  but  this  suggests  his  most  dis- 
tindive  addition  to  our  lyric  poetry. 
It  is  the  note  of  chivalry  in  its  finer 
mood,,  tuned  to  the  praise  of  the 
divine  Stella,,  but  ivith  an  echo  in 
it  of  great  affairs  and  destinies,, 
and  of  no  distant  fields  of  war. 
Here  was  a  poet  who  was  a  man; 
with  his  lyric  art  heightened  by  his 
sense  of  life^  with  his  love-songs 
set  to  an  heroic  accompaniment'^ 
It  is  fust  this  '^^  sense  of  life''  that 
stamps  so  much  of  the  lyric  poe- 
try of  Oueen  Elizabeth's  reign 
as  a  permanent  contribution  to 
English  literature.  Gradually  as 
men  lived  less,,  and  thought  more 
of  the  most  stri/^ing  way  to  ex- 
press such  ideas  as  remained  to 


xii  To  THE  Reader 

them^  the  qualiti/  of  their  poetrij 
deteriorated^  and  the  technical 
side  was  more  and  more  culti- 
vated^ until  from  sheer  attenua- 
tion true  poetry  died  out. 
When  it  is  remembered  that  a 
period  of  fifty  years  will  cover 
nearly  all  that  is  worth  preserv- 
ing of  the  literature  l^nown  as 
'^Elizabethan''  the  wonder  of 
its  rapid  growth  and  brilliant  ma- 
turity is  heightened  by  the  sense 
of  sane  precocity  side  by  side 
with  the  frankly  mediceval.  With 
/lenry^  Earl  of  Surrey  ^  fittingly 
called  'Uhe  English  Petrarch^'' 
the  finest  poet  of  the  reign  of 
Henry  VI I L^  it  is  difficult  to  feel 
any  close  affinity.  He  is  distant 


To  THE  Reader  xlil 

not  only  hy  centuries  but  by  his 
outlook  upon  life.  Even  to  Sidney's 
permanent  elevation  of  feeling 
and  expression  one  cannot  rise 
all  the  time-,  it  is  only  at  our  spirit  s 
best  that  we  feel  a  sense  of  com- 
radeship with  him.  In  Italy  ^  Ariosto 
and  Tasso  had  attempted^  almost 
successfully,  to  revive  chivalry ; 
B^abelais  in  France  and^  later^ 
Cervantes  in  Spain ^  with  a  suc- 
cess only  too  complete^  made  it 
a  laughingstocl<  and  crushed  it  to 
the  ground ;  but  when  Spenser^ 
the  finest  and  truest  English  poet 
of  the  Age  of  Chivalry^  sings 
afresh  its  first  ideal  of  exalted 
and  sublime  love.,  he  makes  us 
believe  in  it.  Spenser  alone  taf^es 


xiv  To  THE  Reader 

//  serious/7/  and  naturallij.  He  is 
on  the  level  of  so  much  nobleness^ 
dignity^  reverie.  Yet  within  ten 
years  of  the  publication  of  the 
^^  Faerie  Que  en  ^''  Shakespeare 
has  created  Hamlet — a  ^^man  of 
to-morrow^^  in  his  keenness  of 
self-analijsis — and  such  a  lyric 
as  the  one  beginning 

O  NigKt,  oh  jealous  Night  repugnant  to  my  meas- 
ures 

has  been  written.  A  lyric  so  per- 
fed^  so  impassioned^  that  I  know 
of  nothing  of  its  kind  finer.  It  is 
anonymous,  Mr,  Swinburne  might 
have  ivritten  it  but  that  it  was  pub- 
lished Just  three  hundred  years 
ago. 


To  THE  Reader  xv 

Regarding  the  poems  themselves^ 
in  nearly  all  cases  modern  spell- 
ing has  been  used.  In  the  few  in- 
stances where  the  charm  seemed 
to  be  heightened  by  the  quaint 
orthography ^  the  old  spelling  has 
been  retained^  but  this  so  seldom 
that  it  is  not  likely  to  deter  any- 
one from  reading  the  few  poems 
thus  printed. 

Finally,  I  wish  to  say  that  as  this 
little  volume  is  a  sele&ion  of  other 
mens  work  I  have.,  in  these  few 
notes ^  not  scrupled  to  "  convey  "  a 
word^  idea  or  sentence  that  fitted 
my  needs.  This  I  have  done  so 
frequently  that  to  acknowledge 
indebtedness  in  every  caje  would 
be  useless.   Wherever  a  writer 


xvi  To  THE  Reader 

may  find  I  have  borrowed  from 
his  worlds  I  beg  him  to  accept  my 
thanks. 


FiTzRoY  Carrington. 


##W#E#R 


A  Dedication  to 


Q 


E 


UEEN    ULIZABETH 


To  Her  High  MajeJIy 


WIT'S  rich  Triumph,  Wisdom's  Clory, 
Art's  Chronicle,  and  Learning's  Story, 
Tower  of  Goodness,  Virtue,  Beauty, 
Forgive  me,  that  presume  to  lay 
My  Latours  in  your  clear  Eye's  Ray ; 

This  Boldness  springs  from  Faith,  Zeal.  Duty 


II 
Her  Hand,  her  Lap.  her  Vesture's  Hem, 
MUSE,  touch  not.  for  polluting  them : 
All.  that  IS  hers,  is  pure,  clean,  holy : 
Before  her  Footstool  humble  lye. 
So  may  she  bless  thee  with  her  Eye ; 

The  Sun  shmcs  not  on  good  Things  solely. 
I 


Ill 

Oli've  of  Peace,  Angel  of  Pleasure, 
What  Line  of  Praise  can  your  Worth  measure  ? 
Calm  Sea  of  Bliss,  which  no  Shore  boundeth ! 
FAME  fills  the  World  no  more  with  Lies. 
But  feusy'd  in  your  Histories 

Her  Trumpet  those  true  Wonders  soundeth. 

IV 
O  FAME,  say  all  the  Good  thou  may'st. 
Too  little  is  that  ALL  thou  say'st ! 
What  if  herself  herself  commended  ? 
Should  we  then  know  (ne'er  known  before) 
Whether  her  Wit.  or  Worth  were  more  ? 
Ah  no !  that  Book  would  ne'er  be  ended. 

Dedication  of  the  First  Edition  (1600)  of  Fairfax's 
translation  of  Tasso's  Jerusalem  Delivered. 


Lines  underneath  a  Portrait 
of  Oueen  Elizabeth 

■'     'V 

LOE  here  the  pearle. 
Whom  Cod  and  man  doth  love : 
Loe  here  on  earth 
The  onely  starre  of  light : 
Loe  here  the  queene. 

Whom  no  mishap  can  move 
To  chaunge  her  mynde 
2 


From  vertues  cliief  delight ! 
Loe  here  the  heart 

That  So  hath  honord  God, 
That,  for  her  love. 

We  feele  not  of  his  rod: 
Pray  for  her  health. 

Such  as  good  subjedes  bee : 
Oh  Princely  Dame, 

There  is  none  like  to  thee ! 

From  a  Contemporary  Ballad,  presumed  to  be 
unique,  formerly  in  the  library  of  Henry  Huth, 
Esq. 


The 


Queen^s  Garland 


Oueen  Elizabeth  (1533-1603) 


On  Ambition  and  Dif loyalty 

(Written  about  1584) 

THE  doubt  of  future  foes. 
Exiles  my  present  joy. 
And  wit  me  warnes  to  shun  such  snares 
As  threaten  mine  annoy. 

For  falsehood  now  doth  flow. 

And  subjed  faith  doth  ebbe. 
Which  would  not  be.  if  reason  rul'd. 

Or  wisdome  weu'd  the  webbe. 

But  clowdes  of  tois  untried. 

Do  doake  aspiring  mindes. 
Which  turne  to  raine  of  late  repent. 

By  course  of  changed  windes. 


5 


The  Queen's  Garland 

The  toppe  of  hope  supposed. 

The  roote  of  ruthe  will  be. 
And  frutelesse  all  their  graffed  guiles. 

As  shortly  ye  shall  see. 

There  dazeld  eyes  with  pride. 

Which  great  ambition  blinds, 
Shal  be  unseeld  by  worthy  wights. 

Whose  foresight  falsehood  finds. 


The  daughter  of  debate.  *  *  ^JV'^ 

That  eke  discord  doth  sowe,  „. 

Shall  reap  no  game  where  former  rule  Scots. 
Hath  taught  stil  peace  to  growe. 


No  forreine  bannisht  wight 

Shall  ancre  in  this  port. 
Our  realme  it  brookes  no  strangers  force. 

Let  them  elsewhere  resort. 


Our  rusty  sworde  with  rest. 

Shall  first  his  edge  employ. 
To  polle  their  toppes,  that  seeke  such  change. 
And  gape  for  such  like  joy. 

From  Puttenham's  Arte  of  English  Pccsic. 
6 


John  Lyly 

Verfes 

by  Princefs  Elizabeth 
while  a  Prifoner  at  Woodftock 

"Writ  with  Charcoal  on  a  Shutter 

OH,  Fortune !  how  thy  restlesse  ■wavering  state 
Hath  fraught  with  cares  my  troubled  witt ! 
Witness  this  present  prisonn.  whither  fate 
CouH  beare  me,  and  the  joys  I  quit. 
Thou  causedest  the  guiltie  to  be  losed 
From  bands,  wherein  are  innocents  inclosed : 
Causing  the  guiltles  to  be  straite  reser\ed. 
And  freeing  those  that  death  hath  well  deserved. 
But  by  her  envie  can  be  nothing  wroughte. 
So  Cod  send  to  my  foes  all  they  have  thought. 
A.  D.  MDLV.  Elizabethe.  Prisonner. 


John  Lyly  (i534-'6oo) 


Cards  and  Kiffes 

CUPID  and  my  Campaspe  played 
At  cards  for  kisses  —  Cupid  paid; 
He  stakes  his  quiver,  bow  and  arrows. 
His  mother's  doves,  and  team  of  sparrows ; 

7 


Tlie  Queen's  Garland 

Loses  them  too ;  then  down  he  throws 

The  coral  of  his  lip.  the  rose 

Crowing  on's  cheek  (but  none  knows  how) ; 

With  these,  the  crystal  of  his  brow. 

And  then  the  dimple  of  his  chin : 

All  these  did  my  Campaspe  win. 

At  last  he  set  her  both  his  eyes. 

She  won,  and  Cupid  blind  did  rise. 

O  Love !  has  she  done  this  to  thee  ? 

What  shall,  alas !  become  of  me  ? 

From  Alexander  and  Campaspe. 


Daphne 

MY  Daphne's  hair  is  twisted  gold. 
Bright  stars  a-piece  her  eyes  do  hold. 
My  Daphne's  brow  enthrones  the  graces. 
My  Daphne's  beauty  stains  all  faces ; 
On  Daphne's  cheek  grow  rose  and  cherry. 
On  Daphne's  lip  a  sweeter  berry : 
Daphne's  snowy  hand  but  touched  does  melt. 
And  then  no  heavenlier  warmth  is  felt ; 
My  Daphne's  voice  tunes  all  the  spheres. 
My  Daphne's  music  charms  all  ears ; 
Fond  am  I  thus  to  sing  her  praise,  From 

These  glories  now  are  turned  to  bays.  Midas. 

S 


Thomas  Sackville  (Earl  of  Dorset) 

From  the  engraving  by  George  Vertue 

after  the  painting  by  Knowles 


T.  SackvlUe 


Thomas  Sackuille ,  Earl  of  Dor/et 

(1536-1608) 

MYDNYGHT  was  cum,  and  every  vitall  thing 
With  swete  sound  slepe  theyr  weary  lyms  did  rest : 
The  beasts  were  still,  the  lytle  byrdes  that  syng 
Now  sweetely  slept  besides  theyr  mothers  brest. 
The  olde  and  all  were  shrowded  in  theyr  nest. 
The  waters  calme,  the  cruel  seas  did  ceas. 
The  wuds,  the  fyeldes.  and  all  things  held  theyr  peace. 

The  golden  stars  wer  whyrlde  amyd  theyr  race. 
And  on  the  earth  did  laugh  with  twinkling  light. 
When  eche  thing  nestled  in  his  restyng  place. 
Forgat  dayes  payne  with  pleasure  of  the  nyght : 
The  hare  had  not  the  greedy  houndes  in  sight. 
The  fearful  dear  of  death  stood  not  in  doubt. 
The  partrydge  drempt  not  of  the  falcon's  foot. 

The  ougly  beare  nowe  myndeth  not  the  stake. 
Nor  howe  the  cruell  mastyves  do  him  tear ; 
The  stag  lay  still  unroused  from  the  brake. 
The  fomy  boar  feard  not  the  hunter's  spear. 
All  thing  was  still  in  desert,  bush,  and  brear. 
With  quyet  heart  now  from  their  travailes  rest. 
Soundly  they  slept  in  midst  of  all  their  nest. 

From  the  Complaint  of  Henry,  Duke  of  Bockingham. 
9 


The  Queen's  Garland 
William  Bijrd  (1538-1623) 

My  Mind  to  Me  a  Kingdom  is 

MY  mind  to  me  a  Kingdom  is ; 
Such  perfed  joy  therein  I  find 
As  far  exceeds  all  earthly  bliss. 
That  God  or  Nature  hath  assigned : 
Though  much  I  want,  that  most  would  have. 
Yet  still  my  mind  forbids  to  crave. 

Content  I  live,  this  is  my  stay ; 

I  seek  no  more  than  may  suffice : 
I  press  to  bear  no  haughty  sway ; 

Look  what  I  lack  my  mind  supplies. 
Loe !  thus  I  triumph  like  a  king. 
Content  with  that  my  mind  doth  bring 

I  see  how  plenty  surfeits  oft. 

And  hasty  climbers  soonest  fall : 
I  see  that  such  as  sit  aloft 

Mishap  doth  threaten  most  of  all : 
These  get  with  toil,  and  keep  with  fear 
Such  cares  my  mind  could  never  bear. 

No  princely  pomp,  nor  welthy  store. 
No  force  to  win  the  vidory, 
10 


William  Byrd 

No  wily  Wit  to  salve  a  sofe. 

No  shape  to  •win  a  lovers  eye ; 
To  none  of  these  I  yield  as  thrall : 
For  why  ?  my  mind  despiseth  all. 

Some  have  too  much,  yet  still  they  crave, 
I  little  have,  yet  seek  no  more : 

They  are  but  poor,  though  much  they  have ; 
And  I  am  rich  with  little  store : 

They  poor,  I  rich ;  they  beg,  I  give ; 

They  lack,  I  lend :  they  pine,  I  live. 

I  laugh  not  at  another's  loss, 
I  grudge  not  at  another's  gain ; 

No  worldly  waves  my  mind  can  toss, 
I  brook  that  is  another's  bane : 

I  fear  no  foe,  nor  fawn  on  friend ; 

I  loath  not  life,  nor  dread  mine  end. 

I  joy  not  in  no  earthly  bliss ; 

I  weigh  not  Croesus'  wealth  a  straw ; 
For  care,  I  know  not  what  it  is ; 

I  fear  not  Fortunes  fatal  law : 
My  mind  is  such  as  may  not  move 
For  beauty  bright  or  force  of  love. 

I  wish  but  what  I  have  at  will ; 
I  wander  not  to  seek  for  more ; 
II 


The  Queen's  Garland 

I  like  the  plam.  I  climb  no  hill ; 

In  greatest  storms,  I  sit  on  shore 
And  lacgh  at  them  that  toil  in  vam 
To  get  -what  must  be  lost  again. 

I  kiss  not  -where  I  -wish  to  kill ; 

I  feign  not  love  where  most  I  hate; 
I  break  no  sleep  to  win  my  will ; 

I  wait  not  at  the  mighty's  gate ; 
I  scorn  no  poor,  I  fear  no  rich ; 
I  feel  no  want,  nor  have  too  much. 

The  court,  ne  cart,  I  like,  ne  loath ; 

Extremes  are  counted  worst  of  all : 
The  golden  mean,  betwixt  them  both 

Doth  surest  sit,  and  fears  no  fall : 
This  IS  my  choice :  for  why  ?  I  find 
No  wealth  is  like  a  quiet  mind. 

My  wealth  is  health,  and  perf ed^  ease ; 

My  conscience  clear  my  chief  defence : 
I  never  seek  by  bribes  to  please. 

Nor  by  desert  to  give  offence : 
Thus  do  I  live,  thus  will  I  die ; 
Would  all  did  so  as  well  as  I ! 

From  Psalms,  Sonnets  and  Songs.' 


12 


Nicholas  Breton 

Upon  a  Summer  Day  Love  went 
to  Swim 

UPON  a  summer's  day  Love  went  to  swim. 
And  cast  himself  into  a  sea  of  tears ; 
Thecloudscalledmtheirlight.andheavenwaxeddim, 
And  sighs  did  raise  a  tempest,  causing  fears ; 
The  naked  boy  could  not  so  wield  his  arms. 

But  that  the  waves  were  masters  of  his  might. 
And  threatened  him  to  work  far  greater  harms 

If  he  devised  not  to  scape  by  flight : 
Then  for  a  boat  his  quiver  stood  instead. 

His  bow  unbent  did  serve  him  for  a  mast, 
Yv'hereby  to  sail  his  cloth  of  veil  he  spread. 

His  shafts  for  oars  on  either  board  he  cast : 
From  shipwreck  safe  this  wag  got  thus  to  shore. 
And  sware  to  bathe  m  lover's  tears  no  more. 

Ytoih  Songs  of  Sundry  Natures. 


Nicholas  Breton  (1545-1626) 


The  Ploughman's  Song 

IN  the  merry  month  of  May, 
In  a  morn  by  break  of  day. 
With  a  troop  of  damselles  playing 
1'  orth  I  yode  forsooth  a  maying : 


i: 


The  Queen's  Garland 

When,  anon,  by  a  wood  side. 
Where  as  May  was  in  his  pride, 
I  espiM  all  alone 
Phyllida  and  Corydon. 

Much  ado  there  was,  God  wot ; 
He  would  love  and  she  would  not. 
She  said,  "never  man  was  true:" 
He  sayes,  "none  was  false  to  you." 

He  said,  "he  had  loved  her  long," 

She  sayes,  "love  should  have  no  wrong," 

Corydon  would  kiss  her  then : 

She  sayes,  "maides  must  kiss  no  men. 

Till  they  do  for  good  and  all." 
Then  she  made  the  shepherd  call 
All  the  heavens  to  witness  truth. 
Never  loved  a  truer  youth. 

Thus  with  many  a  prettie  oath. 
Yea  and  nay,  and  faith  and  troth : 
Such  as  silly  shepherds  use 
When  they  will  not  love  abuse ; 

Love,  which  had  been  long  deluded. 
Was  with  kisses  sweet  concluded ; 


Nicholas  Breton 


And  Phyllida  with  garlands  gay 

Was  made  the  lady  of  the  May. 

Sung  at  the  entertainment  given  to  Queen  Eliza- 
beth, by  the  Earl  of  Hertford,  in  159 r. 

From  England's  Helicon. 


A  Sweet  Pafloral 

GOOD  Muse,  rock  me  asleep 
With  some  sweet  harmony : 
The  weary  eye  is  not  to  keep 
Thy  wary  company. 

Sweet  Love,  begone  awhile. 
Thou  knowest  my  heaviness; 

Beauty  is  born  but  to  beguile 
My  heart  of  happiness. 

See  how  my  little  flock. 
That  loved  to  feed  on  high. 

Do  headlong  tumble  down  the  rock. 
And  m  the  valley  die. 

The  bushes  and  the  trees 

That  were  so  fresh  and  green. 

Do  all  their  dainty  colour  leese. 
And  not  a  leaf  is  seen. 

'5 


The  Queen's  Garland 

The  blackbird  and  the  thrush 

That  made  the  woods  to  ring. 
With  all  the  rest  are  now  at  hush. 

And  not  a  note  they  sing. 

Sweet  Philomel,  the  bird 

That  hath  the  heavenly  throat. 
Doth  now,  alas !  not  once  afford 

Recording  of  a  note. 

The  flowers  have  had  a  frost. 

Each  herb  hath  lost  her  savour. 
And  Phyllida  the  fair  hath  lost 

The  comfort  of  her  favour. 

Now  all  these  careful  sights 

So  kill  me  in  conceit. 
That  hope  upon  delights. 

It  is  but  mere  deceit. 

And  therefore,  my  sweet  Muse, 
Thou  knowest  what  help  is  best : 

Do  now  thy  heavenly  cunning  use. 
To  set  my  heart  at  rest. 

And  in  a  dream  bewray 

What  fate  shall  be  ray  friend. 
Whether  my  life  shall  still  decay. 

Or  when  my  sorrows  end. 

From  England's  Heiicont  i 

i6 


}.  Mundy 
John  Mundy 


'ERE  I  a  king.  I  might  command  content: 
Were  I  obscure,  unknown  should  be  my  cares : 
And  were  I  dead,  no  thoughts  should  me  tor- 
ment. 
Nor  words,  nor  wrongs,  nor  loves,  nor  hopes,  nor  fears, 
A  doubtful  choice,  of  three  things  one  to  crave ; 
A  kingdom,  or  a  cottage,  or  a  grave. 

Yrom  Songs  and  Psalms  (1594). 


William  Barley 


Thofe  Eyes  that  fet  My  Fancy 
on  a  Fire 

THOSE  eyes  that  set  my  fancy  on  a  fire. 
Those  crisped  hairs  that  hold  my  heart  in  chains. 
Those  dainty  hands  which  conquered  my  desire. 
That  wit  which  of  my  thoughts  doth  hold  the  reins : 
Then  Love  be  judge,  what  heart  may  therewith  stand 
Such  eyes,  such  head,  such  wit.  and  such  a  hand? 
Those  eyes  for  clearness  doth  the  stars  surpass. 

Those  hairs  obscure  the  brightness  of  the  sun. 
Those  hands  more  white  than  ever  ivory  was. 

7 


The  Queen's  Garland 

That  wit  even  to  the  skies  hath  glory  won. 
O  eyes  that  pierce  our  hearts  without  remorse ! 

O  hairs  of  right  that  wear  a  royal  crown ! 
O  hands  that  conquer  more  than  Cesar's  force ! 

O  wit  that  turns  huge  kingdoms  upside  down ! 

From  the  New  Book  of  Tabliture  (7596). 

Anonymous 

Love's  a  Bee^  and  Bees  have 

Stings 

.  NCE  I  thought,  but  falsely  thought 
Cupid  all  delight  had  brought. 
And  that  love  had  been  a  treasure. 
And  a  palace  full  of  pleasure. 
But  alas !  too  soon  I  prove. 
Nothing  is  so  sour  as  love ; 

That  for  sorrow  my  muse  sings. 
Love's  a  bee,  and  bees  have  stings. 

When  I  thought  I  had  obtained 
That  dear  solace,  which  if  gained 
Should  have  caused  all  joy  to  spring. 
Viewed,  I  found  it  no  such  thing : 
But  instead  of  sweet  desires, 
18 


Anonymous 


Found  a  rose  hemmed  in  with  briars ; 
That  for  sorrow  my  muse  sings. 
Love's  a  bee.  and  bees  have  stings. 

Wonted  pleasant  life  adieu. 
Love  hath  changed  thee  for  a  new : 
New  indeed,  and  sour  I  prove  it. 
Yet  I  cannot  choose  but  love  it; 
And  as  if  it  were  delight. 
I  pursue  it  day  and  night ; 

That  with  sorrow  my  muse  sings. 

I  love  bees,  though  bees  have  stings. 

From  The  Mirror  of  Knighthood  (1599). 

Love  hath  Eyes  by  Night 

O  NIGHT.  O  jealous  Night,  repugnant  to  my 
measures ! 
O  Night  so  long  desired,  yet  cross  to  ray  con- 
tent! 
There 's  none  but  only  thou  that  can  perform  my  pleas- 
ures. 
Yet  none  but  only  thou  that  hindereth  my  intent. 

Thy  beams,  thy  spiteful  beams,  thy  lamps  that  burn  too 
brightly. 
Discover  all  my  trains  and  naked  lay  my  drifts, 

19 


The  Queen's  Garland 

That  night  by  night  I  hope,  yet  fail  my  purpose  nightly ; 
Thy  envious  glaring  gleam  defeateth  so  my  shifts. 

Sweet  Night,  withhold  thy  beams,  withhold  them  till  to- 
morrow ! 
Whose  Joy's  in  lack  so  long  a  hell  of  torment  breeds. 
Sweet  Night,  sweet  gentle  Night,  do  not  prolong  my 
sorrow : 
Desire  is  guide  to  me,  and  Love  no  lodestar  needs. 

Let  sailors  gaze  on  Stars,  and  Moon  so  freshly  shining; 

Let  them  that  miss  the  way  be  guided  by  the  light ; 
I  know  my  Lady's  bower,  there  needs  no  more  divining; 

Affedion  sees  in  dark,  and  Love  hath  eyes  by  night. 

Dame  Cynthia,  couch  awhile !  hold  in  thy  horns  for 
shining. 
And  glad  not  lowring  Night  with  thy  too  glorious 
rays; 
But  be  she  dim  and  dark,  tempestuous  and  repining. 
That  in  her  spite  my  sport  may  work  thy  endless 
praise. 

And  when  my  will  is  wrought,  then,  Cynthia,  shine, 
good  lady. 
All  other  nights  and  days  in  honour  of  that  night. 
That  happy  heavenly  night,  that  night  so  dark  and  shady. 
Wherein  my  Love  had  eyes  that  lighted  my  delight ! 

From  The  Phoenix'  Nest  (1593). 
20 


E.  Spenser 

Edmund  Spenfer  (1552-1599) 

Ye  Tradeful  Merchants 

YE  tradeful  Merchants  that  with  weary  toil 
Do  seek  most  precious  things  to  make  your  gain. 
And  both  the  Indias  of  their  treasure  spoil. 
What  needeth  you  to  seek  so  far  in  vain  ? 
For  lo !  my  Love  doth  in  herself  contain 
All  this  world's  riches  that  may  far  be  found. 
If  Saphires,  lo !  her  eyes  be  Saphires  plain ; 
If  Rubies,  lo !  her  lips  be  Rubies  sound ; 
If  Pearls,  her  teeth  be  pearls,  both  pure  and  round ; 
If  Ivories,  her  forehead  ivory  ween ; 
If  Gold,  her  locks  are  finest  gold  on  ground ; 
If  Silver,  her  fair  hands  are  silver  sheen : 
But  that  which  fairest  is  but  few  behold. 
Her  mind,  adorned  with  virtues  manifold. 

Colin  Clouf  s  Mournful  Ditty  for 
The  Death  of  Aflrophel 


s 


HEPHERDS  that  wont  on  pipes  of  oaten  reed 
Oftimes  to  plain  your  love's  concealed  smart. 
And  with  your  piteous  lays  have  learnt  to  breed 
21 


The  Queen's  Garland 

Compassion  in  a  country  lass's  heart : 
Hearken,  ye  gentle  Shepherds,  to  my  song. 
And  place  ray  doleful  plaint  your  plaints  among. 

To  you  alone  I  sing  this  mournful  verse. 

The  mournfull'st  verse  that  ever  man  heard  tell ; 

To  you  whose  soften'd  hearts  it  may  impierce  . 

With  dolour's  dart  for  death  of  Astrophel : 

To  you  I  sing,  and  to  none  other  wight. 

For,  well  I  wot,  my  rhymes  been  rudely  dight. 

Yet  as  they  been,  if  any  nicer  wit 
Shall  hap  to  hear  or  covet  them  to  read. 
Think  he  that  such  are  for  such  ones  most  fit. 
Made  not  to  please  the  living  but  the  dead : 
And  if  m  him  found  pity  ever  place. 
Let  him  be  moved  to  pity  such  a  case. 

From  England's  Helicon. 

■ i 

One  Day  I  Wrote  Her  Name 
upon  the  Strand 

ONE  day  I  wrote  her  name  upon  the  strand. 
But  came  the  waves,  and  washed  it  away : 
Agayne  I  wrote  it  with  a  second  hand ; 
But  came  the  tyde.  and  made  my  paynes  his  pray. 
"Vayne  man!"  said  she,  "that  doest  in  vayne  assay 

23 


Edmund  Spenser 
From  the  engraving  by  George  Vertue 


Edmund  Spenser 

A  mortall  thing  so  to  immortalize ; 
For  I  my  selfe  shall  lyke  to  this  decay. 
And  eke  my  name  bee  wyped  out  lykewize : " 
"Not  so,"  quod  I;  "let  baser  things  devize 
To  dy  in  dust,  but  you  shall  live  by  fame : 
My  verse  youf  virtues  rare  shall  eternize. 
And  in  the  hevens  wryte  your  glorious  name : 
Where,  when  as  death  shall  all  the  world  subdew. 
Our  love  shall  live,  and  later  life  renew." 


But  if  Ye  Jaw  that  which  no  Eyes 
can  fee 

BUT  if  ye  saw  that  which  no  eyes  can  see. 
The  inward  beauty  of  her  lively  spright, 
Carnisht  with  heavenly  guifts  of  high  degree. 
Much  more  then  would  ye  wonder  at  that  sight. 
And  stand  astonisht  lyke  to  those  which  red 
Medusaes  mazeful  hed. 

There  dwels  sweet  love,  and  constant  Chastity, 
Unspotted  fayth,  and  comely  womanhood. 
Regard  of  honour,  and  mild  modesty ; 
There  vertue  raynes  as  Queene  m  royal  throne. 
And  giveth  lawes  alone. 
The  which  the  base  affedions  doe  obay. 
And  yeeld  theyr  services  unto  her  will ; 

23 


The  Queen's  Garland 

Ne  thouglit  of  thing  uncomely  ever  may 
Thereto  approach  to  tempt  her  mind  to  ill. 
Had  ye  once  seene  these  her  celestial  threasures. 
And  unrevealed  pleasures. 
Then  would  ye  wonder,  and  her  prayses  sing. 
That  al  the  woods  should  answer,  and  your  echo  ring. 
From  The  Epithalamion  written  for  his  own  mar- 
riage in  1594. 

Antony  Munday  (i553-»633) 
Beauty  Sat  Bathing 

BEAUTY  sat  bathing  by  a  spring 
Where  fairest  shades  did  hide  her ; 
The  winds  blew  calm,  the  birds  did  sing. 
The  cool  streams  ran  beside  her. 
My  wanton  thoughts  enticed  mine  eye 

To  see  what  was  forbidden 
But  better  memory  said  Fie ; 
So  vain  desire  was  chidden. 

Into  a  slumber  then  I  fell. 

And  fond  imagination 
Seemed  to  see,  but  could  not  tell 

Her  feature  or  her  fashion : 
But  even  as  babes  in  dreams  do  smile 

24 


Mary  Sidney 


And  Sometimes  fall  a-weeping. 
So  I  awaked  as  wise  that  while 

As  when  I  fell  a-sleeping. 
From  The  Famous  and  Renowned  History  of  Primalcon 
of  Greece. 

Mar^  Sidney^  Countefs  of  Pem- 
broke (i  557-1 621) 

A  Dialogue 

between  two  Shepherds,  Thenot  and  Piers 

In  Praife  of  Aflrea 

Thenot.   T  SINC  divine  Astrea's  praise; 

I  O  Muses !  help  my  wits  to  raise. 
And  heave  my  verses  higher. 
Piers.        Thou  need'st  the  truth  but  plainly  tell. 

Which  much  I  doubt  thou  canst  not  well. 
Thou  art  so  oft  a  liar. 

Thenot.    If  m  my  song  no  more  I  show. 

Than  Heaven,  and  earth,  and  sea  do  know. 
Then  truly  I  have  spoken. 
P'hts.        Sufficeth  not  no  more  to  name. 

But  being  no  less,  the  like,  the  same. 
Else  laws  of  truth  be  broken. 

25 


The  Queen's  Garland 

Thenot.    Then  say.  she  is  so  good,  so  fair. 

With  all  the  earth  she  may  compare. 
Not  Momus  self  denying : 
Piers.       Compare  may  think  where  likeness  holds. 
Nought  like  to  her  the  earth  enfolds, 
I  looked  to  find  you  lying. 

Thenot.    Astrea  sees  with  wisdom's  sight ; 
Astrea  works  by  virtue's  might ; 
And  jointly  both  do  stay  in  her. 
Piers.       Nay.  take  from  them  her  hand,  her  mind. 
The  one  is  lame,  the  other  blind : 
Shall  still  your  lying  stain  her  ? 

Thenot.    Soon  as  Astrea  shows  her  face. 

Straight  every  ill  avoids  the  place. 
And  every  good  aboundeth. 
Piers.       Nay.  long  before  her  face  doth  show. 
The  last  doth  come,  the  first  doth  go : 
How  loud  this  lie  resoundeth. 

Thenot.    Astrea  is  our  chiefest  joy. 

Our  chiefest  guard  against  annoy. 
Our  chiefest  wealth,  our  treasure. 
Piers.       Where  chiefest  are.  there  others  be. 
To  us  none  else  but  only  she : 

When  wilt  thou  speak  in  measure  ? 
26 


Mary  Sidney  (  Countess  of  Pembroke : 
From  the  painting  by  Mark  Ccrards 


Mary  Sidney 


Thenot.    Astrea  may  be  justly  said, 

A  field  m  flowery  robe  arrayed. 
In  season  freshly  springing. 
Piers.       That  spring  endures  but  shortest  time. 
This  never  leaves  Astrea's  clime : 
Thou  liest.  instead  of  singing. 

Thenot.    As  heavenly  light  that  guides  the  day. 
Right  so  doth  shine  each  lovely  ray 
That  from  Astrea  flieth. 
Piers.       Nay.  darkness  oft  that  light  enclouds : 
Astrea's  beams  no  darkness  shrouds : 
How  loudly  Thenot  lieth. 

Thenot.    Astrea  rightly  term  I  may 

A  manly  palm,  a  maiden  bay. 
Her  verdure  never  dying. 
PieTS.       Palm  oft  is  crooked,  bay  is  low. 

She  still  upright,  still  high  doth  grow : 
Good  Thenot  leave  thy  lying. 

Thenot.    Then.  Piers,  of  friendship  tell  me  why. 
My  meaning  true,  my  words  should  lie. 
And  strive  in  vain  to  raise  her  ? 
Piers.       Words  from  conceit  do  only  rise ; 
Above  conceit  her  honour  flies : 
But  silence,  nought  can  praise  her. 

27 


The  Queen's  Garland 

Sir  Philip  Sidney  (1554-1586) 

Phoebus^  Farewell! 

PHOEBUS,  farewell !  a  sweeter  Saint  I  serve : 
The  high  conceits  thy  heav'nly  wisdoms  breed 
My  thoughts  forget,  my  thoughts  which  never  swerve 
From  her  in  whom  is  sown  their  freedom's  seed. 
And  m  whose  eyes  my  daily  doom  I  read. 

Phoebus,  farewell !  a  sweeter  Saint  I  serve ; 
Thou  art  far  off.  thy  kingdom  is  above ; 
She  heaven  on  earth  with  beauties  doth  preserve: 
Thy  beams  I  like,  but  her  clear  rays  I  love ; 
Thy  force  I  fear,  her  force  I  still  do  prove. 

Phoebus,  yield  up  thy  title  in  my  mind ; 
She  doth  possess,  thy  image  is  defaced ; 
But,  if  thy  rage  some  brave  revenge  will  find. 
On  her  who  hath  in  me  thy  temple  raced. 
Employ  thy  might  that  she  my  fires  may  taste. 

And,  how  much  more  her  worth  surmounting  thee. 
Make  her  as  much  more  base  by  loving  me. 

from  Arcadia. 


28 


Sir  Philip  Sidney 

My  True  Love  Hath  My  Heart, 
and  I  have  His 

MY  true  love  hath  my  heart,  and  I  have  his. 
By  just  exchange  one  for  the  other  given  : 
I  hold  his  dear,  and  mine  he  cannot  miss : 
There  never  was  a  bargain  better  driven. 
His  heart  in  me  keeps  me  and  him  m  one ; 
My  heart  in  him  his  thoughts  and  senses  guides : 
He  loves  my  heart  for  once  it  was  his  own ; 
I  cherish  his  because  in  me  it  bides. 
His  heart  his  wound  received  from  my  sight ; 
My  heart  was  wounded  with  his  wounded  heart : 
For  as  from  me  on  him  his  hurt  did  light. 
So  still  methought  in  me  his  hurt  did  smart. 
Both  equal  hurt,  m  this  change  sought  our  bliss : 
My  true  love  hath  my  heart,  and  I  have  his. 

'From  Arcadia. 

The    Shepherd   Mufidorus   Hif 
Complaint 

COME,  shepherds'  weeds,  become  your  master's 
mmd. 

Yield  outward  show,  what  inward  change  he  tries ; 
Nor  be  abash'd  since  such  a  guest  you  find, 

29 


The  Queen's  Garland 

Whose  strongest  hope  m  your  weak  comfort  lies. 
Come,  shepherds'  v/eeds,  attend  my  woful  cries. 
Disuse  yourselves  from  sweet  Menakas'  voice ; 
For  other  be  those  tunes  which  sorrow  ties. 
From  those  clear  notes  which  freely  may  rejoice. 
Then  pour  out  plaint,  and  in  one  word  say  this — 
Helpless  his  plaints  who  spoils  himself  of  bliss. 

From  England's  Helicon. 


The  Shepherd's  Brawl 

One  Half  Answering  the  Other 

1.  ^^^TE  love,  and  have  our  loves  rewarded. 

2.  \^/    We  love,  and  are  no  whit  regarded. 

1.  We  find  most  sweet  affedion's  snare. 

2.  That  sweet  but  sour  despairful  care. 

1.  Who  can  despair  whom  hope  doth  bear? 

2.  And  who  can  hope  that  feels  despair  ? 
All.  As  without  breath  no  pipe  doth  move. 

No  music  kindly  without  love. 

From  England's  Helicon. 


^P 


Sir  Philip  Sidney 

From  the  engraving  by  George  Vertue 

after  the  painting  by  Oliver 


Sir  Philip  Sidney 

Fair  Eyes^  Sweet  Lips^  Dear 
Heart 

FAIR  eyes,  sweet  lips,  dear  heart,  that  foolish  I 
Could  hope,  by  Cupid's  help,  on  you  to  pray. 
Since  to  himself  he  doth  your  gifts  apply. 
As  his  main  force,  chief  sports,  and  easeful  stay ! 
For  when  he  will  see  who  dare  him  gain-say. 
Then  with  those  eyes  he  looks :  io,  by  and  by 
Each  soul  doth  at  Love's  feet  his  weapons  lay. 
Glad  if  for  her  he  give  them  leave  to  die. 
When  he  will  play,  then  in  her  lips  he  is. 
Where  blushing  red.  that  Love's  self  then  doth  love. 
With  either  lip  he  doth  the  other  kiss ; 
But  when  he  will,  for  quiet's  sake,  remove 
From  all  the  world,  her  heart  is  then  his  rome,*  *  Room. 
Where  well  he  knows  no  man  to  him  can  come. 

Ihe  Forty-third  Sonnet  from  Astrophcl  and  Stella. 


High  IVaj/,  since  you  my  Chief 
ParnaJJus  be 

HIGH  way,  since  you  my  chief  Parnassus  be. 
And  that  my  Muse,  to  some  ears  not  unswect. 
Tempers  her  words  to  trampling  horses'  feet 
More  oft  than  to  a  chamber-melody. 

31 


The  Queen's  Garland 

Now,  blessed  you  bear  onward  blessed  me 

To  her.  where  I  my  heart,  safe-left,  shall  meet ; 

My  Muse  and  I  most  you  of  duty  greet 

With  thanks  and  wishes,  wishing  thankfully. 

Be  you  still  fair,  honoured  by  public  heed ; 

By  no  encroachment  wrong'd,  nor  time  forgot; 

Nor  blam'd  for  blood,  nor  sham'd  for  sinful  deed : 

And  that  you  know  I  envy  you  no  lot 

Of  highest  wish,  I  wish  you  so  much  bliss, — 

Hundreds  of  years  you  Stella's  feet  may  kiss. 

The  Eighty- fourth  Sonnet  from  Astropliel  and  Stella. 


A  Pajloral 

Made  by  Sir  Philip  Sidney  upon  His  Meeting 

with  His  Two  Worthy  Friends  and  Fellow-Poets 

Sir  Edward  Dyer  6  M.  Fulke  Greville 


I 


OIN  mates  in  mirth  to  me. 

Grant  pleasure  to  our  meeting : 

Let  Fan,  our  good  god,  see 

How  grateful  is  our  greeting. 

Join  hearts  and  hands,  so  let  it  be. 
Make  but  one  mind  in  bodies  three. 

V- 


Sir  Philip  Sidney 

Ye  Hymns,  and  singing  skill 
Of  God  Apollo's  giving. 
Be  prest  our  reeds  to  fill 

With  sound  of  music  living. 

Join  hearts  and  hands,  so  let  it  be. 
Make  but  one  mmd  in  bodies  three. 

Sweet  Orpheus*  harp,  whose  sound 
The  steadfast  mountains  moved. 
Let  here  thy  skill  abound. 

To  join  sweet  friends  beloved. 

Join  hearts  and  hands,  so  let  it  be. 
Make  but  one  mmd  in  bodies  three. 

My  two  and  I  be  met. 

A  happy  blessed  trinity. 
As  three  most  jointly  set 
In  firmest  band  of  unity. 

Join  hearts  and  hands,  so  let  it  be. 
Make  but  one  mmd  in  bodies  three. 

Welcome  my  two  to  me. 

The  number  best  beloved. 
Within  my  heart  you  be 
In  friendship  unremoved : 

Join  hearts  and  hands,  so  let  it  be. 
Make  but  one  mind  in  bodies  three. 

33 


The  Queen's  Garland 

Give  leave  your  flocks  to  range. 
Let  us  the  while  be  playing : 
Within  the  elmy  grange. 

Your  flocks  will  not  be  straying : 
Join  hearts  and  hands,  so  let  it  be. 
Make  but  one  mind  in  bodies  three. 

Cause  all  the  mirth  you  can. 

Since  I  am  now  come  hether. 
Who  never  joy,  but  when 
I  am  with  you  together. 

Join  hearts  and  hands,  so  let  it  be. 
Make  but  one  mind  in  bodies  three. 

Like  lovers  do  their  love. 

So  joy  I  in  you  seeing ; 
Let  nothing  me  remove 

From  always  with  you  being : 

Join  hearts  and  hands,  so  let  it  be. 
Make  but  one  mind  in  bodies  three. 

And  as  the  turtle  Dove 

To  mate  with  whom  he  liveth. 
Such  comfort  fervent  love 
Of  you  to  my  heart  giveth. 

Join  hearts  and  hands,  so  let  it  be. 
Make  but  one  mind  in  bodies  three. 
34 


Thomas  Lodge 


Now  joined  be  our  hands. 

Let  them  be  ne'er  asunder. 
But  linked  in  binding  bands 
By  metamorphosed  wonder. 

So  should  our  severed  bodies  three 
As  one  for  ever  joined  be. 

From  Davison's  Poetical  Rhapsody. 


Thomas  Lodge  (1555-1625) 
I(ofalind's  Madrigal 

LOVE  m  my  bosom  like  a  bee 
Doth  suck  his  sweet ; 
Now  with  his  wings  he  plays  with  me. 
Now  with  his  feet. 
Within  mine  eyes  he  makes  his  nest. 
His  bed  amidst  my  tender  breast ; 
My  kisses  are  his  daily  feast. 
And  yet  he  robs  me  of  my  rest. 
Ah  wanton,  will  ye  ? 

And  if  I  sleep,  then  percheth  he, 

"With  pretty  flight. 
And  makes  his  pillow  of  my  knee 

The  livelong  night. 

35 


The  Queen's  Garland 

Strike  I  my  lute,  he  tunes  the  string ; 
He  music  plays  if  so  I  smg : 
He  lends  me  every  lovely  thing ; 
Yet  cruel  he  my  heart  doth  sting. 
Whist,  wanton,  still  ye ! 

Else  I  with  roses  every  day 

Will  whip  yon  hence. 
And  bind  you,  when  you  long  to  play. 

For  your  offence, 
I  'II  shut  mine  eyes  to  keep  you  in, 
I  'II  make  you  fast  it  for  your  sin, 
I  'II  count  your  power  not  worth  a  pin. 
Alas,  what  hereby  shall  I  win. 

If  he  gainsay  me  ? 

What  if  I  beat  the  wanton  boy 

With  many  a  rod  ? 
He  will  repay  me  with  annoy. 

Because  a  god. 
Then  sit  thou  safely  on  my  knee. 
Then  let  thy  bower  my  bosom  be ; 
Lurk  in  mine  eyes,  I  like  of  thee. 
O  Cupid,  so  thou  pity  me. 

Spare  not,  but  play  thee. 


From  Rosalind. 


36 


Thomas  Lodge 
The  Lover  s  Vow 

FIRST  shall  the  heavens  want  starry  light. 
The  seas  be  fobbed  of  their  waves : 
The  day  want  sun.  and  sun  want  bright. 
The  night  want  shade,  the  dead  men  graves ; 
The  April  flowers  and  leaf  and  tree. 
Before  I  false  my  faith  to  thee. 

First  shall  the  tops  of  highest  hills 
By  humble  plains  be  overpried ; 
And  poets  scorn  the  Muses'  quills. 
And  fish  forsake  the  water-glide ; 

And  Iris  lose  her  coloured  weed. 

Before  I  fail  thee  at  thy  need. 

First  direful  hate  shall  turn  to  peace. 
And  love  relent  in  deep  disdain ; 
And  death  his  fatal  stroke  shall  cease. 
And  envy  pity  every  pain ; 

And  pleasure  mourn,  and  sorrow  smile. 

Before  I  talk  of  any  guile. 

First  time  shall  stay  his  stayless  race. 
And  winter  bless  his  boughs  with  corn ; 
And  snow  bcmoisten  July's  face. 
And  winter  spring,  and  summer  mourn. 

Before  my  pen  by  help  of  fame  -pf^jti 

Cease  to  recite  thy  sacred  name.  Rosalind. 

37 


The  Queen's  Garland 

Momanus'  Sonnet 

PHOEBE  sat. 
Sweet  she  sat. 

Sweet  sat  Phoebe  when  I  saw  hef. 
White  her  brow. 
Coy  her  eye ; 

Brow  and  eye  how  much  you  please  me  [ 
Words  I  spent. 
Sighs  I  sent ; 

Sighs  and  words  could  never  draw  her. 
Oh  my  love. 
Thou  art  lost. 

Since  no  sight  could  ever  ease  thee. 

Phoebe  sat. 
By  a  fount. 

Sitting  by  a  fount  I  spied  her : 
Sweet  her  touch. 
Rare  her  voice : 

Touch  and  voice  what  may  distain  you  ? 
As  she  sang. 
I  did  sigh. 

And  by  sighs  whilst  that  I  tried  her. 
Oh  mine  eyes ! 
You  did  lose 

Her  first  sight,  whose  want  did  pain  you. 


38 


H 


Thomas  Morley 

Phoebe's  flocks. 
White  as  wool. 

Yet  were  Phoebe's  locks  more  whiter. 
Phoebe's  eyes. 
Dovelike  mild. 

Dovelike  eyes,  both  mild  and  cruel ; 
Montan  swears. 
In  your  lamps 

He  will  die  for  to  delight  her. 
Phoebe,  yield. 
Or  I  die :  ^  Yrom 

Shall  true  hearts  be  fancy's  fuel  ?     Rosalind. 

Thomas  Morley  (1557-1604) 

APRIL  is  in  my  mistress'  face. 
And  July  m  her  eyes  hath  place ; 
Within  her  bosom  is  September, 
But  in  her  heart  a  cold  December. 

From  the  First  Book  of  Madrigals. 

George  Peele  (1558-1598) 
Farewell  to  Arms 

IS  golden  locks  time  hath  to  silver  turned: 

O  time  too  swift,  O  swiftness  never  ceasing ! 
His  youth  'gainst  time  and  age  hath  ever  spurned, 

39 


The  Queen's  Garland 

But  spurned  in  vain ;  youth  waneth  by  increasing : 
Beauty,  strength,  youth,  are  flowers  but  fading  seen ; 
Duty,  faith,  love,  are  roots,  and  ever  green. 

His  helmet  now  shall  make  a  hive  for  bees. 
And.  lovers'  sonnets  turned  to  holy  psalms, 

A  man-at-arms  must  now  serve  on  his  knees. 
And  feed  on  prayers,  which  are  age  his  alms : 

But  though  from  court  to  cottage  he  depart. 

His  saint  is  sure  of  his  unspotted  heart. 

And  when  he  saddest  sits  in  homely  cell. 

He  'II  teach  his  swains  this  carol  for  a  song.  — 

"  Blessed  be  the  hearts  that  wish  my  sovereign  well. 
Cursed  be  the  souls  that  think  her  any  wrong." 

Goddess,  allow  this  aged  man  his  right. 

To  be  your  beadsman  now  that  was  your  knight. 

From  Polyhymnia. 

Robert  Greene  (1560-1592) 
Weep  not,  My  Wanton 

WEEP  not,  my  wanton,  smile  upon  my  knee ; 
When  thou  art  old  there 's  grief  enough  for 
thee. 
Mother's  wag.  pretty  boy, 
40 


Robert  Greene 

Father's  sorrow,  father's  joy ; 
When  thy  father  first  did  see 
Such  a  boy  by  him  and  me. 
He  was  glad,  I  was  woe ; 
Fortune  changed  made  him  so. 
When  he  left  his  pretty  boy. 
Last  his  sorrow,  first  his  joy. 

Weep  not,  my  wanton,  smile  upon  my  knee ; 
When  thou  art  old  there 's  grief  enough  for  thee. 

Streaming  tears  that  never  stint. 

Like  pearl-drops  from  a  flint. 

Fell  by  course  from  his  eyes. 

That  one  another's  place  supplies; 

Thus  he  grieved  m  every  part. 

Tears  of  blood  fell  from  his  heart. 

When  he  left  his  pretty  boy. 

Father's  sorrow,  father's  joy. 

Weep  not,  my  wanton,  smile  upon  my  knee ; 
When  thou  art  old  there 's  grief  enough  for  thee. 

The  wanton  smiled,  father  wept. 

Mother  cried,  baby  lept ; 

More  we  crowed,  more  we  cried. 

Nature  could  not  sorrow  hide : 

He  must  go,  he  must  kiss 

Child  and  mother,  baby  bliss, 

41 


The  Queen's  Garland 

For  he  left  his  pretty  boy. 

Father's  sorrow,  father's  joy. 
Weep  not,  my  wanton,  smile  upon  my  knee ; 
When  thou  art  old  there 's  grief  enough  for  thee. 

From  Menaphon. 


Jealoufy 

WHEN  gods  had  framed  the  sweet  of  women's 
face. 
And  locked  men's  looks  within  their  golden 
hair. 
That  Phoebus  blushed  to  see  their  matchless  grace. 

And  heavenly  gods  on  earth  did  make  repair ; 
To  quip  fair  Venus'  overweening  pride. 
Love's  happy  thoughts  to  jealousy  were  tied. 

Then  grew  a  wrinkle  on  fair  Venus'  brow ; 

The  amber  sweet  of  love  is  turned  to  gall ; 
Gloomy  was  heaven ;  bright  Phoebus  did  avow 

He  could  be  coy,  and  would  not  love  at  all. 
Swearing,  no  greater  mischief  could  be  wrought 
Than  love  united  to  a  jealous  thought, 

From  Ciceronis  Amor. 


42 


}.  Dowland 


John  Dowland  (1562-1615) 

Go  crystal  tears !  like  to  the  morning  showers. 
And  sweetly  weep  into  thy  lady's  breast ! 
And  as  the  dews  revive  the  drooping  flowers. 
So  let  your  drops  of  pity  be  addrest ! 
To  quicken  up  the  thoughts  of  my  desert. 
Which  sleeps  too  sound  whilst  I  from  her  depart. 

Haste  hapless  sighs  f  and  let  your  burning  breath 
Dissolve  the  ice  of  her  indurate  heart ! 

"Whose  frozen  rigour,  like  forgetful  Death, 
Feels  never  any  touch  of  my  desert. 

Yet  sighs  and  tears  to  her  I  sacrifice 

Both  from  a  spotless  heart  and  patient  eyes. 

From  the  First  Book  of  Songs  or  Airs,  1597. 

Michael  Drayton  (1563-1631) 

Since  There  s  no  Help^  Come 
let  us  Kifs  and  Part 

SINCE  there's  no  help,  come  let  us  kiss  and  part: 
Nay.  I  have  done ;  you  get  no  more  of  me ; 
And  I  am  glad  —  yea.  glad  with  all  my  heart  — 
That  thus  so  cleanly  I  myself  can  free. 

43 


The  Queen's  Garland 

Shake  hands  for  ever,  cancel  all  our  vows ; 

And  when  we  meet  at  any  time  again 

Be  it  not  seen  in  either  of  our  brows 

That  we  one  jot  of  former  love  retain. 

Now,  at  the  last  gasp  of  Love's  latest  breath, 

When  Faith  is  kneeling  at  his  bed  of  death. 

And  Innocence  is  closing  up  his  eyes  — 

Now,  if  thou  wouldst,  when  all  have  given  him  over 

From  death  to  life  thou  mightst  him  recover. 


The  Shepherd's  Daffodil 

GORBO,  as  thou  cam'st  this  way 
By  yonder  little  hill. 

Or  as  thou  through  the  fields  did'st  stray, 
Saw'st  thou  my  daffodil  ? 

She 's  in  a  frock  of  Lincoln-green, 
The  colour  maids  delight ; 
And  never  hath  her  beauty  seen 
But  through  a  veil  of  white. 

Than  roses  richer  to  behold 
That  dress  up  lover's  bowers ; 
The  pansy  and  the  marigold 
Are  Phoebus'  paramours. 

44 


Michael  Drayton 

Thou  well  descnfc'st  the  dafodil. 
It  is  not  full  an  hour 
Since  by  the  spring  near  yonder  hill 
I  saw  that  lovely  flower. 

Yet  with  my  flower  thou  didst  not  meet. 
Nor  news  of  her  dost  bring ; 
Yet  is  my  daffodil  more  sweet 
Than  that  by  yonder  spring. 

I  saw  a  shepherd,  that  doth  keep 
In  yonder  field  of  lilies, 
"Was  making  (as  he  fed  his  sheep) 
A  wreath  of  daffodillies. 

Yet,  Corbo,  thou  delud'st  me  still. 
My  flower  thou  didst  not  see ; 
For  know,  my  pretty  daffodil 
Is  worn  by  none  but  me. 

To  show  itself  but  near  her  seat 
No  Illy  is  so  bold : 
Except  to  shade  her  from  the  heat. 
Or  keep  her  from  the  cold. 

Through  yonder  vale  as  I  did  pass. 
Descending  from  the  hill, 
I  met  a  smirking  bonny  lass : 
They  call  her  Daffodil. 

45 


The  Queen's  Garland 

Whose  presence  as  along  she  went. 
The  pretty  flowers  did  greet : 
As  though  their  heads  they  downward  bent 
With  homage  to  her  feet. 

And  all  the  shepherds  that  were  nigh. 
From  top  of  every  hill. 
Unto  the  valleys  loud  did  cry. 
"There  goes  sweet  Daffodil!" 

Ay,  gentle  shepherd,  now  with  joy 
Thou  all  my  flock  dost  fill : 
Come,  go  with  me.  thou  shepherd's  boy. 
Let  us  to  Daffodil. 

From  England's  Helicon. 


Chriftopher  Marlowe  (1564-1593) 

The  PaJJionate  Shepherd  to  His 

Love 

COME  live  with  me  and  be  my  love. 
And  we  will  all  the  pleasures  prove. 
That  hills  and  valleys,  dale  and  field. 
And  all  the  craggv  mountains  yield. 
46 


Christopher  Marlowe 

There  will  we  sit  upon  the  rocks. 
And  see  the  shepherds  feed  their  flocks. 
By  shallow  rivers,  to  whose  falls 
Melodious  birds  sing  madrigals. 


There  will  I  make  thee  beds  of  roses 
With  a  thousand  fragrant  posies, 
A  cap  of  flowers,  and  a  kirtle 
Embroider'd  all  with  leaves  of  mirtle ; 

A  gown  made  of  the  finest  wool. 
Which  from  our  pretty  lambs  we  pull ; 
Fair  lined  slippers  for  the  cold ; 
With  buckles  of  the  purest  gold : 

A  belt  of  straw,  and  ivy  buds. 
With  coral  clasps,  and  amber  studs : 
And,  if  these  pleasures  may  thee  move. 
Then  live  with  me,  and  be  my  love. 

The  shepherd  swains  shall  dance  and  sing 
For  thy  delight  each  May  morning ; 
If  these  delights  thy  mind  may  move. 
Then  live  with  me  and  be  my  love. 

From  England's  Helicon. 
47 


The  Queen's  Garland 

Sir  Walter  Raleigh  (1552-1618) 

The  Nymph's  I(eply 

IF  all  the  World  and  love  were  young. 
And  truth  in  every  shepherd's  tongue. 
These  pretty  pleasures  might  me  move 
To  live  with  thee,  and  be  thy  love. 

But  time  drives  flocks  from  field  to  fold. 
When  rivers  rage,  and  rocks  grow  cold. 
And  Philomel  becometh  dumb. 
And  all  complain  of  cares  to  come. 

The  flowers  do  fade,  and  wanton  fields 
To  wayward  Winter  reckoning  yields; 
A  honey  tongue,  a  heart  of  gall. 
Is  fancy's  spring,  but  sorrow's  fall. 

Thy  gowns,  thy  shoes,  thy  bed  of  roses. 
Thy  cap,  thy  kirtle,  and  thy  posies. 
Soon  break,  soon  wither,  soon  forgotten. 
In  folly  ripe,  in  reason  rotten. 

Thy  belt  of  straw,  and  ivy  buds. 
Thy  coral  clasps,  and  amber  studs : 
All  these  in  me  no  means  can  move 
To  come  to  thee,  and  be  thy  love. 
48 


Sir  Walter  Raleigh 
From  the  painting  by  Zucchero 


Sir  Walter  Raleigh 

But  could  youth  last,  and  love  still  breed. 
Had  joys  no  date,  nor  age  no  need ; 
Then  those  delights  my  mind  might  move 
To  live  with  thee,  and  be  thy  love. 

From  England's  Helicon. 


A  Poefy  to  Prove  Affedion  is  not 

Love 

CONCEIT,  begotten  by  the  eyes. 
Is  quickly  born,  and  quickly  dies; 
For  while  it  seeks  our  hearts  to  have. 
Meanwhile  there  reason  makes  his  grave : 
For  many  things  the  eyes  approve. 
Which  yet  the  heart  doth  seldom  love. 

For  as  the  seeds,  in  spring-time  sown. 
Die  m  the  ground  ere  they  be  grown; 
Such  is  conceit,  whose  rooting  fails. 
As  child  that  in  the  cradle  quails. 
Or  else  within  the  mother's  womb 
Hath  his  beginning  and  his  tomb. 

Affedion  follows  Fortune's  wheels. 
And  Soon  is  shaken  from  her  heels; 
For  following  beauty  or  estate, 

49 


The  Queen's  Garland 

Her  liking  still  is  turned  to  hate : 
For  all  affections  have  their  change. 
And  fancy  only  loves  to  range. 

Desire  himself  runs  out  of  breath 
And,  getting,  doth  but  gam  his  death ; 
Desire  nor  reason  hath  nor  rest ; 
And  blind  doth  seldom  choose  the  best : 
Desire  attained  is  not  desire. 
But  as  the  cinders  of  the  fire. 

As  ships  in  ports  desired  are  drowned ; 
As  fruit,  once  ripe,  then  falls  to  ground ; 
As  flies  that  seek  for  flames  are  brought 
To  cinders  by  the  flames  they  sought : 
So  fond  desire  when  it  attains. 
The  life  expires,  the  woe  remains. 

And  yet  some  poets  fain  would  prove 
Affedion  to  be  perf ed  love ; 
And  that  desire  is  of  that  kind. 
No  less  a  passion  of  the  mmd : 
As  if  wild  beasts  and  men  did  seek 
To  like,  to  love,  to  choose  alike. 

From  Davison's  Poetical  Rhapsody. 


50 


Sir  Walter  Raleigh 

The  Lie 

Go,  soul,  the  body's  guest. 
Upon  a  thankless  arrant ; 
Fear  not  to  touch  the  best. 
The  truth  shall  be  thy  warrant : 
Co,  since  I  needs  must  die. 
And  give  the  world  the  he. 

Say  to  the  Court,  it  glows. 
And  shines  like  rotten  wood ; 

Say  to  the  Church,  it  shows 

What's  good,  and  doth  no  good : 

If  Church  and  Court  reply. 
Then  give  them  both  the  he. 

Tell  Potentates  they  live 
Ading  by  other's  acition ; 

Not  loved  unless  they  give. 
Not  strong  but  by  a  faction : 

If  Potentates  reply. 
Give  Potentates  the  he. 

Tell  men  of  high  condition. 

That  manage  the  estate. 
Their  purpose  is  ambition. 

Their  practice  only  hate : 
And  if  they  once  reply. 

Then  give  them  all  the  he. 

5' 


The  Queen's  Garland 

Tell  them  that  brave  it  most. 

They  beg  for  more  by  spending. 
Who  in  their  greatest  cost 

Seek  nothing  but  commending : 
And  if  they  make  reply. 

Then  tell  them  all  they  lie. 

Tell  zeal  it  wants  devotion ; 

Tell  love  it  is  but  lust ; 
Tell  time  it  metes  but  motion : 

Tell  flesh  It  is  but  dust : 
And  wish  them  not  reply. 

For  thou  must  give  the  lie. 

Tell  age  it  daily  wasteth : 
Tell  honour  how  it  alters; 

Tell  beauty  how  she  blasteth ; 
Tell  favour  how  it  falters : 

And  as  they  shall  reply. 
Give  everyone  the  lie. 

Tell  wit  how  much  it  wrangles 
In  tickle  points  of  niceness: 

Tell  wisdom  she  entangles 
Herself  m  over-wiseness : 

And  when  they  do  reply. 

Straight  give  them  both  the  lie. 

5^ 


Sir  Walter  Raleigh 

Tell  physic  of  her  boldness ; 

Tell  skill  It  IS  pretension ; 
Tell  chanty  of  coldness ; 

Tell  law  it  IS  contention ; 
And  as  they  do  reply. 

So  give  them  still  the  lie. 

Tell  fortune  of  her  blindness ; 

Tell  nature  of  decay ; 
Tell  friendship  of  unkmdness ; 

Tell  justice  of  delay  : 
And  if  they  will  reply. 

Then  give  them  all  the  lie. 

Tell  arts  they  have  no  soundness. 

But  vary  by  esteeming ; 
Tell  schools  they  want  profoundness. 

And  stand  too  much  on  seeming: 
If  arts  and  schools  reply. 

Give  arts  and  schools  the  lie. 

Tell  faith  It 's  fled  the  city : 
Tell  how  the  country  erreth : 

Tell  manhood,  shakes  off  pity ; 
Tell  virtue,  least  preferreth : 

And  if  they  do  reply. 
Spare  not  to  give  the  lie. 


The  Queen's  Garland 

So  when  thou  hast,  as  I 

Commanded  thee,  done  blabbing ; 

Although  to  give  the  lie. 

Deserves  no  less  than  stabbing : 

Stab  at  thee  he  that  will. 
No  stab  the  soul  can  kill  I 

From  Davison's  Poetical  Rhapsody. 

William  Shakefpeare  (1564-1616) 
The  I(hyme  of  White  and  B,ed 

fF  she  be  made  of  white  and  red. 
Her  faults  will  ne'er  be  known. 
For  blushing  cheeks  by  faults  are  bred. 
And  fears  by  pale  white  shown : 
Then  if  she  fears  or  be  to  blame. 

By  this  you  shall  not  know, 
Fcr  still  her  cheeks  possess  the  same. 
Which  native  she  doth  owe. 

From  Love's  Labours  Lost. 


r 


Y 


You  Spotted  Snakes 

OU  spotted  snakes  with  double  tongue. 
Thorny  hedge-hogs,  be  not  seen ; 
Newts,  and  blind -worms,  do  no  wrong ; 

54 


Shakespeare 


Come  not  near  our  fairy  queen : 
Philomel,  with  melody, 
Smg  in  our  sweet  lullaby ; 
Lulla,  lulla.  lullaby,  lulla,  lulla.  lullaby; 
Never  harm. 
Nor  spell,  nor  charm. 
Come  our  lovely  lady  nigh ; 
So,  good  night,  with  lullaby. 

Weaving  spiders,  come  not  here : 

Hence,  you  long-legged  spinners,  hence ! 

Beetles  black,  approach  not  near ; 

Worm,  nor  snail,  do  no  offence. 
Philomel,  with  melody,  etc. 

From  A  Midsummer  NigKt's  Dream. 

The    Oufel-Cock,  fo  Black  of 

Hue 

THE  ousel-cock.  So  black  of  hue. 
With  orange-tawny  bill. 
The  throstle  with  his  note  so  true. 
The  wren  with  little  quill ; 
The  finch,  the  sparrow,  and  the  lark. 

The  plain  song  cuckoo  gray. 
Whose  note  full  many  a  man  doth  mark. 
And  dares  not  answer  nay. 

From  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream. 

55 


T 


The  Queen's  Garland 

Hark!  Hark!  the  Lark  at  Heav- 
en's Gate  Sings 

HARK !  hark !  the  lark  at  heaven's  gate  sings. 
And  Phoebus  'gins  arise. 
His  steeds  to  water  at  those  springs 
On  chaliced  flowers  that  lies : 
And  winking  Mary-buds  begin 

To  ope  their  golden  eyes ; 
"With  every  thing  that  pretty  is. 
My  lady  sweet,  arise ; 
Arise,  arise. 

"Erom  Cymbelinc. 

Herds  Epitaph 

DONE  to  death  by  slanderous  tongues 
Was  the  Hero  that  here  lies ; 
Death,  in  guerdon  of  her  wrongs. 
Gives  her  fame  which  never  dies : 
So  the  life  that  died  with  shame. 
Lives  in  death  with  glorious  fame. 

Yrom  Much  Ado  about  Nothing. 


56 


Shakespeare 
Take^  O,  Take  Thofe  Lips  Away 

TAKE.  O,  take  those  lips  away. 
That  so  sweetly  were  forsworn : 
And  those  eyes,  the  break  of  day. 
Lights  that  do  mislead  the  morn : 
But  my  kisses  bring  again. 

Bring  again ; 
Seals  of  love  but  sealed  in  vain. 

Sealed  in  vain. 
from  Measure  for  Measure. 


Come^  Thou  Monarch  of  the  Vine 

COME,  thou  monarch  of  the  vine, 
Plumpy  Bacchus  with  pink  eyne ! 
In  thy  vats  our  cares  be  drowned. 
With  thy  grapes  our  hairs  be  crowned ; 
Cup  us.  till  the  world  go  round. 
Cup  us.  till  the  world  go  round ! 

From  Antony  and  Cleopatra. 


57 


The  Queen's  Garland 
A  Dirge 

FULL  fathom  five  thy  father  lies : 
Of  his  bones  are  coral  made ; 
Those  are  pearls  that  were  his  eyes : 
Nothing  of  him  that  doth  fade 
But  doth  suffer  a  sea-change 
Into  something  rich  and  strange. 
Sea-nymphs  hourly  ring  his  knell : 
Hark!  now  I  hear  them,  —  ding-dong,  feell. 

From  The  Tempest. 


Where   the   Bee    Sucks^    there 
Suck  I 

WHERE  the  bee  sucks,  there  suck  I ; 
In  a  cowslip's  bell  I  lie : 
There  I  couch  when  owls  do  cry ; 
On  the  bat's  back  I  do  fly 
After  summer  merrily : 
Merrily,  merrily,  shall  I  live  now 
Under  the  blossom  that  hangs  on  the  bough. 

From  The  Tempest. 


58 


Shakespeare 
Crabbed  Age  and  Youth 

CRABBED  Age  and  Youth 
Cannot  live  together ; 
Youth  IS  full  of  pleasance. 
Age  is  full  of  care  : 
Youth  like  summer  morn. 
Age  like  winter  weather. 
Youth  like  summer  brave. 
Age  like  winter  bare  : 
Youth  is  full  of  sport. 
Age's  breath  is  short ; 
Youth  is  nimble.  Age  is  lame : 
Youth  is  hot  and  bold. 
Age  is  weak  and  cold ; 
Youth  is  wild,  and  Age  is  tame. 
Age,  I  do  abhor  thee ! 
Youth,  I  do  adore  thee ; 
O,  my  love,  my  love  is  young : 
Age,  I  do  dcfie  thee ; 
Oh  sweet  shepherd,  hie  thee. 
For  methinks  thou  stayst  too  long. 

From  The  Passionate  Pilgtime,  and  Sonnets  to 
Sundry  Notes  of  Musick  (1599). 


59 


The  Queen's  Garland 
Thomas  Weelks 


LADY,  the  birds  right  fairly 
Are  singing  ever  early  ; 
The  lark,  the  thrush,  the  nightingale. 
The  make-sport  cuckoo  and  the  quail. 
These  sing  of  Love !  then  why  sleep  ye  ? 
To  love  your  sleep  it  may  not  be. 

Yrom  Madrigals  of  Five  and  Six  parts  (i6oo). 


Thomas  Campion  (—1619) 
/  Care  not  for  thefe  Ladies 

I  CARE  not  for  these  ladies 
That  must  be  wooed  and  prayed. 
Give  me  kind  Amaryllis, 
The  wanton  country  maid : 
Nature  art  disdaineth. 
Her  beauty  is  her  own : 

Her  when  we  court  and  kiss. 
She  cries,  "  Forsooth,  let  go  ! " 
But  when  we  come  where  comfort  is. 
She  never  will  say  "No." 


60 


Thomas  Campion 

If  I  love  Amaryllis. 

She  gives  me  fruit  and  flowers ; 

But  if  we  love  these  ladies. 
We  must  give  golden  showers. 

Give  them  gold  that  sell  love. 

Give  me  the  nut-brown  lass. 
Who  when  we  court  and  kiss. 
She  cries  "Forsooth,  let  go!" 
But  when  we  come  where  comfort  is. 
She  never  will  say  "No." 


These  ladies  must  have  pillows 

And  beds  by  strangers  wrought; 
Give  me  a  bower  of  willows. 

Of  moss  and  leaves  unbought ; 
And  fresh  AmarvIIis, 
With  milk  and  honey  fed. 

Who  when  we  court  and  kiss. 

She  cries  "Forsooth,  let  go!" 

But  when  we  come  where  comfort  is. 

She  never  will  say  "No." 

'From  Campion  and  Rosseter's  Book  of  Airs 
(1601). 


61 


The  Queen's  Garland 
Thou  art  not  Fair 

THOU  art  not  fair,  for  all  thy  red  and  white. 
For  all  those  rosy  ornaments  in  thee : 
Thou  art  not  sweet,  tho'  made  of  mere  delight. 
Nor  fair,  nor  sweet — unless  thou  pity  me. 
I  will  not  soothe  thy  fancies,  thou  shalt  prove 
That  beauty  is  no  beauty  without  love. 

Yet  love  not  me,  nor  seek  not  to  allure 

My  thoughts  with  beauty,  were  it  more  divine; 

Thy  smiles  and  kisses  I  cannot  endure, 

I'll  not  be  wrapped  up  in  those  arms  of  thine: 

Now  show  It,  if  thou  be  a  woman  right,  — - 
Embrace  and  kiss  and  love  me  in  despite. 

From  Campion  and  Rosseter's  Book  of  Airs  (i6oi). 

When  Thou  ?nu/t  home  to  Shades 
of  Underground 

WHEN  thou  must  home  to  shades  of  underground. 
And  there  arrived,  a  new  admired  guest. 
The  beauteous  spirits  do  engirt  thee  round. 
White  lope,  blithe  Helen,  and  the  rest. 
To  hear  the  stories  of  thy  finished  love 
From  that  smooth  tongue  whose  music  hell  can  move ; 

62 


Thomas  Campion 

Then  wilt  thou  speak  of  banqueting  delights. 
Of  masques  and  revels  which  sweet  youth  did  make. 
Of  tourneys  and  great  challenges  of  Knights, 
And  all  these  triumphs  for  thy  beauty  sake : 
When  thou  hast  told  these  honours  done  to  thee. 
Then  tell.  O  tell,  how  thou  didst  murder  me. 

From  Campion  and  Rosseter's  Book  of  Airs  (1601). 


Blame  not  My  Cheeks 

BLAME  not  my  cheeks,  though  pale  with  love  they  be ; 
The  kmdly  heat  unto  my  heart  is  flown 
To  cherish  it  that  is  dismayed  by  thee. 
Who  art  so  cruel  and  unsteadfast  grown : 
For  Nature,  called  for  by  distressed  hearts. 
Negleds  and  quite  forsakes  the  outward  parts. 

But  they  whose  cheeks  with  careless  blood  are  stained 
Nurse  not  one  spark  of  love  within  their  hearts ; 

And,  when  they  woo,  they  speak  with  passion  feigned. 
For  their  fat  love  lies  m  their  outward  parts : 

But  in  their  breasts,  where  love  his  court  should  hold. 

Poor  Cupid  sits  and  blows  his  nails  for  cold. 

¥rom  Campion  and  Rosseter's  Book  of  Airs. 


63 


The  Queen's  Garland 
I(ohert  Jones 

Fair   Women  like  fair  Jewels 

Are 

FAIR  women  like  fair  jewels  are 
Whose  worth  lies  m  opinion ; 
To  praise  them  all  must  be  his  care 
Who  goes  about  to  win  one ; 
And  when  he  hath  her  once  obtained. 

To  her  face  he  must  her  flatter. 
But  not  to  others,  lest  he  move 
Their  eyes  to  level  at  her. 

The  way  to  purchase  truth  in  love. 

If  such  way  there  be  any. 
Must  be  to  give  her  leave  to  rove. 

And  hinder  one  by  many ; 
Believe  thou  must  that  she  is  true. 

When  poisoned  tongues  do  sting  her; 
Rich  jewels  bear  the  self-same  hue 

Worn  upon  any  finger. 

The  perfedest  of  mind  and  shape 

Must  look  for  defamations ; 
Live  how  they  will,  they  cannot  'scape, 
64 


Richard  Carlton 

Their  persons  are  temptations : 
Then  let  the  world  condemn  my  choice. 

As  laughing  at  my  folly ; 
If  she  be  kind,  the  self -same  voice 

Is  spread  of  the  most  holy. 

From  the  Second  Book  of  Songs  and  Airs  (i6ot). 


I(ichard  Car /ton 
Content 

CONTENT  thyself  with  thy  estate. 
Seek  not  to  climb  above  the  skies. 
For  often  love  is  mixed  with  hate 
And  'twixt  the  flowers  the  serpent  lies : 
Where  fortune  sends  her  greatest  joys. 
There  once  possesst  they  are  but  toys. 

What  thing  can  earthly  pleasure  give 
That  breeds  delight  when  it  is  past  ? 

Or  who  so  quietly  doth  live 

But  storms  of  care  do  drown  at  last  ? 

This  is  the  loan  of  worldly  hire. 

The  more  we  have  the  more  desire. 

65 


The  Queen's  Garland 

Wherefore  I  hold  him  best  at  ease 

That  lives  content  with  his  estate. 
And  doth  not  sail  in  worldly  seas 

Where  Mine  and  Thine  do  breed  debate : 
This  noble  mind,  even  in  a  clown. 
Is  more  than  to  possess  a  crown. 

From  Madrigals  (1601). 


Edmund  Bolton 
A  Palinode 

As  withereth  the  primrose  by  the  river. 
As  fadeth  summer's-sun  from  gliding  fountains. 
As  vanisheth  the  light-blown  bubble  ever. 
As  melteth  snow  upon  the  mossy  mountains ; 
So  melts,  so  vanisheth,  so  fades,  so  withers. 
The  rose,  the  shine,  the  bubble,  and  the  snow. 
Of  praise,  pomp,  glory,  joy  (which  short  life  gathers). 
Fair  praise,  vain  pomp,  sweet  glory,  brittle  joy. 
The  withered  primrose  by  the  mourning  river. 
The  faded  summer's-sun  from  weeping  fountains. 
The  light-blown  bubble  vanished  for  ever. 
The  molten  snow  upon  the  naked  mountains. 
Are  emblems  that  the  treasures  we  uplay 
Soon  wither,  vanish,  fade,  and  melt  away. 

66 


A. 

Fof  as  the  snow,  whose  lawn  did  over-spread 

Th'  ambitious  hills,  which  giant-Iike  did  threat 

To  pierce  the  heaven  with  their  aspiring  head. 

Naked  and  bare  doth  leave  their  craggy  seat ; 

When  as  the  bubble,  which  did  empty  fly 

The  dalliance  of  the  undiscernM  wind. 

On  whose  calm  rolling  waves  it  did  rely. 

Hath  shipwreck  made,  where  it  did  dalliance  find ; 

And  when  the  sunshine  which  dissolved  the  snow. 

Coloured  the  bubble  with  a  pleasant  vary. 

And  made  the  rathe  and  timely  primrose  grow, 

Swarth  clouds  with-drawn  (which  longer  tinie  do  tarry)  — 
Oh  what  is  praise,  pomp,  glory,  joy.  but  so 
As  shine  by  fountains,  bubbles,  flowers,  or  snow  ? 

A,   W, 

Upon  Beginningwithout  Makingan  End 

BEGIN,  and  half  is  done,  yet  half  undone  remains; 
Begin  that  half,  and  all  is  done,  and  thou  art  eased 
of  pains : 
The  second  half  is  all  again,  new  work  must  be  begun. 
Thus  he  that  still  begins,  doth  nothing  but  by  halves. 
And  things  half  done,  as  good  undone :  half  oxen  are 

but  calves. 

From  Davison's  Poetical  Rhapsody. 

<^7 


The  Queen's  Garland 

A  Fidion 
How    Cupid   made    a    Nymph 
wound  Her f elf  with  his  Arrows 


I 


T  chanced  of  late  a  shepherd's  swain. 
That  went  to  seek  a  strayed  sheep. 
Within  a  thicket  on  the  plain. 
Espied  a  dainty  Nymph  asleep. 


Her  golden  hair  o'erspread  her  face. 
Her  careless  arms  abroad  were  cast. 

Her  quiver  had  her  pillow's  place. 
Her  breast  lay  bare  to  every  blast. 

The  shepherd  stood,  and  gazed  his  fill ; 

Nought  durst  he  do,  nought  durst  he  say ; 
When  chance,  or  else  perhaps  his  will. 

Did  guide  the  god  of  Love  that  way. 

The  crafty  boy  that  sees  her  sleep. 

Whom,  if  she  waked,  he  durst  not  see. 
Behind  her  closely  seeks  to  creep. 

Before  her  nap  should  ended  be. 

There  come,  he  steals  her  shafts  away. 
And  puts  his  own  into  their  place ; 
68 


A.  W. 

Nor  dares  he  any  longer  stay. 

But,  ere  she  wakes,  hies  thence  apace. 

Scarce  was  he  gone,  when  she  awakes. 
And  spies  the  shepherd  standing  by ; 

Her  bended  bow  in  haste  she  takes. 
And  at  the  simple  swain  let  fly. 

Forth  flew  the  shaft,  and  pierced  his  heart. 
That  to  the  ground  he  fell  with  pain ; 

Yet  up  again  forthwith  he  start. 
And  to  the  Nymph  he  ran  amain. 

Amazed  to  see  so  strange  a  sight. 
She  shot,  and  shot,  but  all  in  vain  : 

The  more  his  wounds,  the  more  his  might ; 
Love  yieldeth  strength  in  midst  of  pain. 

Her  angry  eyes  are  great  with  tears. 

She  blames  her  hands,  she  blames  her  skill ; 
The  bluntness  of  her  shafts  she  fears. 

And  try  them  on  herself  she  will. 

Take  heed,  sweet  Nymph !  try  not  the  shaft ; 

Each  little  touch  will  prick  thy  heart : 
Alas !  thou  knowest  not  Cupid's  craft ; 

Revenge  is  joy,  the  end  is  smart. 
69 


The  Queen's  Garland 

Yet  try  she  will,  and  prick  some  bare  \ 
Her  hands  were  gloved,  and  next  to  hand 

"Was  that  fair  breast,  that  breast  so  rare 
That  made  the  shepherd  senseless  stand. 

That  breast  she  pricked,  and  through  that  breast 

Love  inds  an  entry  to  her  heart : 
At  feeling  of  this  new-come  guest. 

Lord !  how  the  gentle  Nymph  doth  start ! 

She  runs  not  now,  she  shoots  no  more. 
Away  she  throws  both  shafts  and  bow : 

She  seeks  for  that  she  shunned  before. 
She  thinks  the  shepherd's  haste  too  slow. 

Though  mountains  meet  not,  lovers  may ; 
So  others  do,  and  so  do  they : 
The  god  of  Love  sits  on  a  tree. 
And  laughs  that  pleasant  sight  to  see. 

From  Davison's  Poetical  Rhapsody. 


The  Pajjionate  Prifoner 

YE  walls  that  shut  me  up  from  sight  of  men. 
Inclosed  wherein  alive  I  buried  lie : 
And  thou  sometime  my  bed.  but  now  my  den, 
"Where,  smothered  up.  the  light  of  sun  I  fly : 

70 


Thomas  Bateson 

Oh !  shut  yourselves ;  each  chink  and  crevice  strain. 
That  none  but  you  may  hear  me  thus  complain. 

My  hollow  cries  that  beat  thy  stony  side. 
Vouchsafe  to  beat,  but  beat  them  back  again ; 
That  when  my  grief  hath  speech  to  me  denied. 
Mine  ears  may  hear  the  witness  of  my  pain. 
As  for  my  tears,  whose  streams  must  ever  last. 
My  silent  couch  shall  drink  them  up  as  fast. 

From  Davison's  Poetical  Rhapsody. 


Thomas  Bate/on 


Mujic 

MUSIC,  some  think,  no  music  is 
Unless  she  smg  of  clip  and  kiss. 
And  bring  to  wanton  tunes  "  Fie.  fie ! " 
Or  "  Tih-ha.  tah-ha ! "  or  "  I  'II  cry ! " 
But  let  such  rhymes  no  more  disgrace 
Music  sprung  of  heavenly  race. 

Irom  the  First  Set  of  English  Madrigals  (1604). 


71 


The  Queen's  Garland 

Francis  Beaumont  (1586-1616) 

Song  for  a  Dance 

SHAKE  off  youf  heavy  trance ! 
And  leap  into  a  dance 
Such  as  no  mortals  use  to  tread : 
Fit  only  for  Apollo 
To  play  to,  for  the  moon  to  lead. 
And  all  the  stars  to  follow ! 

from  The  Masque  of  the  Inner  Temple 


The  Majkers  called  Away 

YE  should  stay  longer  if  we  durst : 
Away !  Alas  that  he  that  first 
Cave  Time  wild  wings  to  fly  away — 
Hath  now  no  pov/er  to  make  him  stay ! 
And  though  these  games  must  needs  be  played, 
I  would  this  pair,  when  they  are  laid. 

And  not  a  creature  nigh  'em. 
Could  catch  his  scythe,  as  he  doth  pass. 
And  clip  his  wings,  and  break  his  glass. 
And  keep  him  ever  by  'em. 

^Tom  The  Masque  of  the  Inner  Temple. 
72 


/  \  / 


Francis  Beaumont 
From  the  engraving  by  George  Vertue 


Beaumont  6  Fletcher 

F,  Beaumont  and  J.  Fletcher 
No  Medicine  to  Mirth 

9f  I'fIS  mirth  that  fills  the  veins  with  blood, 
I      More  than  wine,  or  sleep,  or  food : 
Let  each  man  keep  his  heart  at  ease ; 
No  man  dies  of  that  disease. 
He  that  would  his  body  keep 
From  diseases,  must  not  weep ; 
But  whoever  laughs  and  sings. 
Never  he  his  body  brings 
Into  fevers,  gouts,  or  rheums. 
Or  Iingerly  his  lungs  consumes ; 
Or  meets  with  aches  m  his  bone. 
Or  catarrhs,  or  griping  stone : 
But  contented  lives  for  aye ; 
The  more  he  laughs,  the  more  he  may. 

From  The  Knight  of  the  Burning  Pestle. 


L 


Afpatids  Song 

AY  a  garland  on  my  hearse 

Of  the  dismal  yew  : 
Maidens,  willow  branches  bear ; 
Say,  I  died  true. 

73 


The  Queen's  Garland 

My  love  was  false,  but  I  was  firm 

From  my  hour  of  birth. 
Upon  my  buried  body  lie 

Lightly,  gentle  earth! 

From  The  Maid's  Tragedy. 


John  Fletcher  (1564- 1616) 
To  Pan 

ALL  ye  woods,  and  trees,  and  bowers. 
All  ye  virtues  and  ye  powers 
That  inhabit  in  the  lakes. 
In  the  pleasant  springs  or  brakes. 
Move  your  feet 

To  our  sound. 
Whilst  we  greet 
All  this  ground 
With  his  honour  and  his  name 
That  defends  our  flocks  from  blame. 

He  is  great,  and  he  is  just. 
He  is  ever  good,  and  must 
Thus  be  honoured.  Daffodillies, 
Roses,  pinks,  and  loved  lilies. 
Let  us  fling. 

74 


11/   //, ,  ,   •//////  /j  /I  //  II  (      ! 


]ohn  Fletcher 
From  the  engraving  by  George  Vertue 


John  Fletcher 


Whilst  we  sing. 

Ever  holy. 

Ever  holy. 
Ever  honoured,  ever  young ! 
Thus  great  Pan  is  ever  sung. 

From  The  Faithful  Shepherdess. 


Farewell^  Falfe  Love! 

AWAY,  delights !  go  seek  some  other  dwelling. 
For  I  must  die. 
Farewell,  false  love !  thy  tongue  is  ever  telling 
Lie  after  lie. 
For  ever  let  me  rest  now  from  thy  smarts ; 
Alas,  for  pity,  go. 
And  fire  their  hearts 
That  have  been  hard  to  thee !  mine  was  not  so. 

Never  again  deluding  love  shall  know  me. 

For  I  will  die : 
And  all  those  griefs  that  think  to  overgrow  me. 

Shall  be  as  I : 
For  ever  will  I  sleep,  while  poor  maids  cry, 

"Alas,  for  pity  stay. 

And  let  us  die 
With  thee !  men  cannot  mock  us  in  the  clay." 

From  The  Captain. 

75 


The  Queen's  Garland 

Thomas  Heywood  (—1636) 


Y 


Ye  Little  Birds  that  Sit  and  Sing 

'E  little  birds  that  sit  and  sing 
Amidst  the  shady  valleys. 
And  see  how  Phillis  sweetly  walks 
Within  her  garden  alleys ; 
Go.  pretty  birds,  about  her  bower ; 
Sing,  pretty  birds,  she  may  not  lower ; 
Ah,  me !  methinks  I  see  her  frown ! 
Ye  pretty  wantons,  warble. 

Go,  tell  her  through  your  chirping  bills. 
As  you  by  me  are  bidden. 
To  her  is  only  known  my  love. 
Which  from  the  world  is  hidden. 
Go,  pretty  birds,  and  tell  her  so ; 
See  that  your  notes  strain  not  too  low. 
For  still,  methinks,  I  see  her  frown ; 
Ye  pretty  wantons,  warble. 

Go,  tune  your  voices*  harmony. 
And  sing,  I  am  her  lover ; 
Strain  loud  and  sweet,  that  every  note 
With  sweet  content  may  move  her : 
And  she  that  hath  the  sweetest  voice, 
76 


Thomas  Heywood 

Tell  her  I  will  not  change  my  choice : 
Yet  siill.  methinks,  I  see  her  frown ! 
Ye  pretty  wantons,  warble. 

Oh,  fly !  make  haste !  see,  see,  she  falls 
Into  a  pretty  slumber. 
Sing  round  about  her  rosy  bed. 
That,  waking,  she  may  wonder. 
Say  to  her,  'tis  her  lover  true 
That  sendeth  love  to  you,  to  you : 
And  when  you  hear  her  kind  reply. 
Return  with  pleasant  warblings. 

From  Fair  Maid  of  the  Exchange. 


Pack  J  Clouds  J  Away! 

PACK,  clouds,  away,  and  welcome,  day  \ 
"With  night  we  banish  sorrow. 
Sweet  air.  blow  soft ;  mount,  lark,  aloft 
To  give  my  love  good  morrow. 
Wings  from  the  wind  to  please  her  mind. 
Notes  from  the  lark  I  '11  borrow : 
Bird,  prune  thy  wing,  nightingale,  smg. 
To  give  my  love  good  morrow. 
To  give  my  love  good  morrow. 
Notes  from  them  all  I  'II  borrow. 
77 


The  Queen's  Garland 

Wake  from  thy  nest,  robin  redbreast ! 

Sing,  birds,  in  every  furrow. 

And  from  each  bill  let  music  shrill 

Give  my  fair  love  good  morrow. 

Black-bird  and  thrush  in  every  bush. 

Stare,*  linnet,  and  cock-sparrow.  *  Starling. 

You  pretty  elves,  amongst  yourselves 

Sing  my  fair  love  good  morrow. 

To  give  my  love  good  morrow. 

Sing,  birds  in  every  furrow. 

From  The  Rape  of  Luctece. 


Sir  Henri/  Wotton  (1567-1639) 
The  Charader  of  a  Happij  Life 

How  happy  is  he  born  or  taught. 
That  serveth  not  another's  will ; 
Whose  armour  is  his  honest  thought. 
And  simple  truth  his  highest  skill : 


Whose  passions  not  his  masters  are : 
Whose  soul  IS  still  prepar'd  for  death ; 

Not  ty'd  unto  the  world  with  care 
Of  princes'  ear.  or  vulgar  breath : 
78 


.i  ■-!,  \-]J.  ^i  ■  J.^.^  ■  ,!. 


^     SMI    MKM!V    vvoirn.N 


Sir  Henry  Wotton 
From  the  painting  by  Cornelius  Jansen 


s 


Thomas  Nashe 

Who  hath  his  life  from  rumours  freed ; 

Whose  conscience  is  his  strong  retreat : 
Whose  state  can  neither  flatterers  feed. 

Nor  ruin  make  oppressors  great : 

Who  envies  none,  whom  chance  doth  raise. 

Or  vice  :  who  never  understood 
How  deepest  wounds  are  given  with  praise 

Nor  rules  of  state,  but  rules  of  good ; 

Who  God  doth  late  and  early  pray 
More  of  his  grace  than  gifts  to  lend : 

And  entertains  the  harmless  day 
With  a  well  chosen  book  or  friend. 

This  man  is  freed  from  servile  bands 

Of  hope  to  rise,  or  fear  to  fall : 
Lord  of  himself,  though  not  of  lands : 

And  having  nothing,  yet  hath  all. 

From  Reliquiae  Wottonianac. 

Thomas  Nafhe  (1567-1600) 
Springy  the  Sweet  Spring 

PRING.  the  sweet  Spring,  is  the  year's  pleasant 

king; 
Then  blooms  each  thing,  then  maids  dance  in  a  ring, 

79 


The  Queen's  Garland 

Cold  doth  not  sting,  the  pretty  birds  do  sing. 
Cuckoo,  jug,  jug,  pu  we,  to  witta  woo. 

The  palm  and  may,  make  country  houses  gay. 
Lambs  frisk  and  play,  the  shepherds  pipe  all  day. 
And  we  hear  aye  birds  tune  this  merry  lay. 
Cuckoo,  jug,  jug.  pu  we.  to  witta  woo. 

The  fields  breathe  sweet,  the  daisies  kiss  ouf  feet. 
Young  lovers  meet,  old  wives  a-sunning  sit. 
In  every  street  these  tunes  our  ears  do  greet. 
Cuckoo,  jug,  jug.  pu  we.  to  witta  woo. 
Spring,  the  sweet  Spring. 

From  Summer's  Last  Will  and  Testament. 


Fadin?  Summer 

o 

FAIR  summer  droops,  droop  men  and  beasts  there- 
fore. 
So  fair  a  summer  look  for  never  more : 
All  good  things  vanish  less  than  in  a  day. 
Peace,  plenty,  pleasure,  suddenly  decay. 

Co  not  yet  away,  bright  soul  of  the  sad  year. 
The  earth  is  hell  when  thou  leav'st  to  appear. 
What,  shall  those  flowers  that  decked  thy  garland  erst. 
Upon  thy  grave  be  wastefully  dispersed  ? 

80 


Thomas  Dekker 

O  trees,  consume  your  sap  in  sorrow's  source. 
Streams,  turn  to  tears  your  tributary  course. 
Go  not  yet  hence,  bright  soul  of  the  sad  year. 
The  earth  is  hell  when  thou  leav'st  to  appear. 

From  Summer's  Last  Will  and  Testament 


Thomas  Dekker  (1570-1641) 


Lullabij 


GOLDEN  slumbers  kiss  your  eyes. 
Smiles  awake  you  when  you  rise. 
Sleep,  pretty  wantons,  do  not  cry. 
And  I  will  sing  a  lullaby : 
Rock  them,  rock  them,  lullaby. 

Care  is  heavy,  therefore  sleep  you ; 
You  are  care,  and  care  must  keep  you : 
Sleep,  pretty  wantons,  do  not  cry. 
And  I  will  sing  a  lullaby : 
Rock  them,  rock  them,  lullaby. 

From  The  Pleasant  Comedy  of  Patient  Grissell. 


81 


The  Queen's  Garland 
Sir  John  Davies  (1570-1626) 

To  Philomel.  Sonnet  ix. 

Upon  sending  her  a  Gold  Ring,  with  this  Poesy, 
pure  anK  ©nUlcss 

IF  you  would  know  the  love  which  I  you  bear. 
Compare  it  to  the  ring  which  your  fair  hand 
Shall  make  more  precious,  when  you  shall  it  wear : 
So  my  love's  nature  you  shall  understand. 
Is  It  of  metal  pure  ?  so  you  shall  prove 
My  love,  which  ne'er  disloyal  thought  did  stain. 
Hath  It  no  end  ?  so  endless  is  my  love. 
Unless  you  it  destroy  with  your  disdain. 
Doth  it  the  purer  wax,  the  more  'tis  tried? 
So  doth  my  love :  yet  herein  they  dissent. 
That  whereas  gold,  the  more  'tis  purified. 
By  waxing  less,  doth  show  some  part  is  spent ; 
My  love  doth  wax  more  pure  by  your  more  trying. 
And  yet  increaseth  in  the  purifying. 

From  Davison's  Poetical  Rhapsody. 


Sir  John  Davies 

Yet  Other  Twelve  Wonders  of 
the  World 

L  The  Courtier 

LONG  have  I  lived  at  Court,  yet  learned  not  all 
this  while 
To  sell  poor  suitors,  smoke :  nor  where  I  hate  to  smile ; 
Superiors  to  adore,  inferiors  to  despise. 
To  fly  from  such  as  fall,  to  follow  such  as  rise : 
To  cloak  a  poor  desire  under  a  rich  array. 
Nor  to  aspire  by  vice,  though  'twere  the  quicker  way. 

//.  The  Divine 

MY  calling  is  Divine,  and  I  from  Cod  am  sent ; 
I  will  no  chop-church  be,  nor  pay  my  patron  rent ; 
Nof  yield  to  sacrilege ;  but,  like  the  kind  true  mother. 
Rather  will  lose  all  the  child,  than  part  it  with  another. 
Much  wealth  I  will  not  seek :  nor  worldly  masters  serve. 
So  to  grow  rich  and  fat,  while  my  poor  flock  doth  sterve. 

///.  The  Soldier 

MY  occupation  is  the  noble  trade  of  Kings, 
The  trial  that  decides  the  highest  right  of  things ; 
Though  Mars  my  master  be,  I  do  not  Venus  love. 
Nor  honour  Bacchus  oft,  nor  often  swear  by  Jove ; 
Of  speaking  of  myself  I  all  occasion  shun 
And  rather  love  to  do,  than  boast  what  I  have  done. 

83 


The  Queen's  Garland 

IV.  The  Lawyer 

THE  law  my  calling  is ;  my  robe,  my  tongue,  my  pen 
Wealth  and  opinion  gain,  and  make  me  Judge  of  men. 
The  known  dishonest  cause  I  never  did  defend. 
Nor  spun  out  suits  in  length,  but  wished  and  sought  an 

end; 
No  counsel  did  bewray,  nor  of  both  parties  take : 
Nor  ever  took  I  fee  for  which  I  never  spake. 

V.  The  Physician 

I  STUDY  to  uphold  the  slippery  state  of  man. 
Who  dies  when  we  have  done  the  best  and  all  we  can. 
From  practice  and  from  books  I  draw  my  learned  skill 
Not  from  the  known  receipt  of  'pothecaries'  bill. 
The  earth  my  faults  doth  hide,  the  world  my  cures  doth  see ; 
What  youth  and  time  efed  is  oft  ascribed  to  me. 

VI.  The  Merchant 

rY  trade  doth  everything  to  every  land  supply. 
Discover  unknown  coasts,  strange  countries  doth 
ally; 
I  never  will  forestall.  I  never  did  engross. 
Nor  custom  did  withdraw,  though  I  returned  with  loss. 
I  thrive  by  fair  exchange,  by  selling  and  by  buying. 
And  not  by  Jewish  use,  reprisal,  fraud,  or  lying. 

84 


Sir  John  Davles 

VII.  The  Country  Gentleman 

THOUGH  strange  outlandish  spirits  praise  towns,  and 
country  scorn. 
The  country  is  my  home,  I  dwell  where  I  was  born : 
There  profit  and  command  with  pleasure  I  partake. 
Yet  do  not  hawks  and  dogs  my  sole  companions  make. 
I  rule,  but  not  oppress ;  end  quarrels,  not  maintain ; 
See  towns,  but  dwell  not  there  t'  abridge  my  charge  or  tram. 

VIII.  The  Bachelor 

HOW  many  things  as  yet  are  dear  alike  to  me. 
The  fields,  the  horse,  the  dog.  love.  arms,  or  liberty ! 
I  have  no  wife  as  yet.  whom  I  may  call  my  own ; 
I  have  no  children  yet,  that  by  my  name  are  known. 
Yet  if  I  married  were,  I  would  not  wish  to  thrive. 
If  that  I  could  not  tame  the  veriest  shrew  alive. 

IX.  The  Married  Man 

I  ONLY  am  the  man  among  all  married  men. 
Who  do  not  wish  the  priest  to  be  unlinked  agen ; 
And  though  my  shoe  did  wring,  I  would  not  make  my 

moan. 
Nor  think  my  neighbour's  chance  more  happy  than  my  own. 
Yet  court  I  not  my  wife,  but  yield  observance  due. 
Being  neither  fond,  nor  cross,  nor  jealous,  nor  untrue. 

£5 


The  Queen's  Garland 

X  The  Wife 

'T'HE  first  of  all  our  sex  came  from  the  side  of  man, 
^   I  thither  am  returned,  from  whence  our  sex  began : 
I  do  not  visit  oft,  nor  many,  when  I  do ; 
I  tell  my  mind  to  few,  and  that  in  counsel  too. 
I  seem  not  sick  in  health,  nor  sullen  but  in  sorrow ; 
I  care  for  somewhat  else  than  what  to  wear  to-morrow. 

XL  The  Widow 

MY  dying  husband  knew  how  much  his  death  would 
grieve  me. 
And  therefore  left  me  wealth  to  comfort  and  relieve  me : 
Though  I  no  more  will  have,  I  will  not  love  disdain ; 
Penelope  herself  did  suitors  entertain. 
And  yet  to  draw  on  such  as  are  of  best  esteem. 
Nor  younger  than  I  am,  nor  richer  will  I  seem. 

XIL  The  Maid 

I  MARRIAGE  would  forswear,  but  that  I  hear  men  tell. 
That  she  that  dies  a  maid  must  lead  an  ape  in  hell. 
Therefore  if  Fortune  come,  I  will  not  mock  and  play. 
Nor  drive  the  bargain  on  till  it  be  driven  away. 
Titles  and  lands  I  like,  yet  rather  fancy  can 
A  man  that  wanteth  gold  than  gold  that  wants  a  man. 

From  Davison's  Poetical  Rhapsody. 
86 


}.  Donne 

John  Donne  (1573-1631) 


Ode 

That  Time  and  Absence  proves 
Rather  helps  than  hurts  to  loves. 

ABSENCE,  hear  thou  my  protestation. 
Against  thy  strength. 
Distance,  and  length : 
Do  what  thou  canst  for  alteration. 
For  hearts  of  truest  mettle 
Absence  doth  join,  and  Time  doth  settle. 

Who  loves  a  mistress  of  such  quality. 

He  soon  hath  found 

Affetition's  ground 
Beyond  time,  place,  and  all  mortality. 

To  hearts  that  cannot  vary. 

Absence  is  present.  Time  doth  tarry. 

My  senses  want  their  outward  motions. 

Which  now  within 

Reason  doth  win. 
Redoubled  in  her  secret  notions : 

Like  rich  men  that  take  pleasure 

In  hiding,  more  than  handling  treasure. 

&7 


The  Queen's  Garland 

By  absence  this  good  means  I  gain. 

That  I  can  catch  her. 

Where  none  can  watch  her. 
In  some  close  corner  of  my  brain. 

There  I  embrace  and  kiss  her ; 

And  so  I  both  enjoy  and  miss  her. 

From  Davison's  Poetical  Rhapsody. 


Ben  Jon/on  (1575-1637) 
S/oWy  Slow,  jrefh  Fount 

I  LOW,  slow,  fresh  fount,  keep  time  with  my  salt  tears ; 
Yet  slower,  yet :  O  faintly,  gentle  springs ; 
List  to  the  heavy  part  the  music  bears. 
Woe  weeps  out  her  division  when  she  sings. 
Droop  herbs  and  flowers. 
Fall  grief  in  showers. 
Our  beauties  are  not  ours ; 
O.  I  could  still. 
Like  melting  snow  upon  some  craggy  hill. 

Drop,  drop.  drop.  drop. 
Since  nature's  pride  is  now  a  withered  daffodil. 

from  Cynthia's  Revels. 


88 


Ben  Jonson 
The  Glove 

THOU  more  than  most  sweet  glove. 
Unto  my  more  sweet  love. 
Suffer  me  to  store  with  kisses 
This  empty  lodging  that  now  misses 
The  pure  rosy  hand  that  ware  thee. 
Whiter  than  the  kid  that  bare  thee. 
Thou  art  soft,  but  that  was  softer ; 
Cupid's  self  hath  kissed  it  ofter 
Than  e'er  he  did  his  mother's  doves. 
Supposing  her  the  queen  of  loves. 
That  was  thy  mistress,  best  of  gloves. 

Ytow.  Cynthia's  Revels. 


Hymn  to  Diana 

QUEEN,  and  huntress,  chaste  and  fair. 
Now  the  sun  is  laid  to  sleep. 
Seated  in  thy  silver  chair. 
State  in  wonted  manner  keep : 
Hesperus  entreats  thy  light. 
Goddess  excellently  bright. 

Earth,  let  not  thy  envious  shade 
Dare  itself  to  interpose ; 
89 


The  Queen's  Garland 

Cynthia's  shining  orb  was  made 
Heaven  to  clear  when  day  did  close : 
Bless  us  then  with  wished  sight. 
Goddess  excellently  bright. 

Lay  thy  bow  of  pearl  apart. 

And  thy  crystal  shining  quiver ; 

Give  unto  the  flying  hart 

Space  to  breathe,  how  short  soever : 

Thou  that  makest  day  of  night. 

Goddess  excellently  bright. 

From  Cynthia's  Revels. 


Simp/ex  Munditiis 

STILL  to  be  neat,  still  to  be  drest. 
As  you  were  going  to  a  feast ; 
Still  to  be  powdered,  still  perfumed ; 
Lady,  it  is  to  be  presumed. 
Though  art's  hid  causes  are  not  found. 
All  is  not  sweet,  all  is  not  sound. 

Give  me  a  look,  give  me  a  face. 
That  makes  simplicity  a  grace ; 
Robes  loosely  flowing,  hair  as  free ; 
Such  sweet  neglect  more  taketh  me 
90 


Ben  Jonson 
From  the  engraving  by  George  Vertue 
after  the  painting  by  Gerard  Honthorst 


Ben  Jonson 


Than  all  the  adulteries  of  art ; 

They  strike  mine  eyes,  but  not  my  heart. 

From  Epicsne.  or  the  Silent  Woman. 


Buzz,  and  Hum 

Buzz !  quoth  the  Blue-Fly. 
Hum  !  quoth  the  Bee ; 
Buzz  and  hum !  they  cry. 
And  so  do  we. 
In  his  ear !  in  his  nose ! 
Thus,  —  do  you  see? 
He  ate  the  Dormouse  — 
Else  It  was  he. 

Yrom  The  Masque  of  Oberon. 


So  White,  fo  Soft^fo  Sweet,  is  She 

H  #*****#** 
AVE  you  seen  but  a  bright  lily  grow 
Before  rude  hands  have  touched  it? 
Have  you  marked  but  the  fall  of  the  snow 
Before  the  soil  hath  smutched  it? 
Have  you  felt  the  wool  of  the  beaver. 
Or  swan's-down  ever  ? 

9' 


The  Queen's  Garland 

Or  have  smelt  o'  the  tud  of  the  brief. 

Or  the  nard  in  the  fire  ? 
Or  have  tasted  the  bag  of  the  bee  ? 
O  so  white,  O  so  Soft.  O  so  sweet  is  she ! 

From  The  Devil  is  an  Ass. 


To  Celia 

iRINK  to  me  only  with  thine  eyes. 
And  I  will  pledge  with  mine. 
Or  leave  a  kiss  withm  the  cup. 
And  I'll  not  ask  for  wine. 
The  thirst  that  from  the  soul  doth  rise 

Doth  ask  for  drink  divine. 
But  might  I  of  Jove's  nedar  sip, 
I  would  not  change  for  thine. 

I  sent  thee  late  a  rosy  wreath. 

Not  so  much  honouring  thee. 
As  giving  it  a  chance  that  there 

It  would  not  withered  be : 
But  thou  thereon  did'st  only  breathe. 

And  sent  it  back  to  me. 
Since  when,  it  grows  and  smells,  I  swear. 

Not  of  Itself,  but  thee. 
92 


Anthony  Nixon 

Epitaph  on  Mary  Sidney^  Coun- 
tefs  of  Pembroke 

UNDERNEATH  this  sable  hearse 
Lies  the  subjecil  of  all  verse, 
Sidney's  sister — Pembroke's  mother  — 
Death,  ere  thou  hast  slain  another. 
Fair  and  wise  and  good  as  she. 
Time  shall  throw  his  dart  at  thee. 

Anthony  Nixon 
Memorial  of  Queen  Elizabeth 

HER  scepter  was  the  rule  of  righteousness ; 
Her  subjeds  more  for  love  than  fear  obeyed  : 
Her  government  seemed  perfed  blessedness ; 
Her  mercy  with  her  justice  ever  swayed : 
Her  bounty,  grace,  and  magnanimity 
Her  princely  mind  did  plainly  signify. 

She  was  the  golden  pipe,  through  which  great  Jove 
Derived  to  us  the  blessings  manifold : 
She  was  the  token  of  his  tender  love. 
Cheering  the  hearts  of  all,  both  young  and  old : 

93 


The  Queen's  Garland 

She  hath  extinguished  all  the  misty  days. 

And  brought  a  light  more  bright  than  Phcrbus*  rays. 

That  glorious  light,  which  did  illuminate 
Our  hearts,  which  long  in  darkness  had  remained. 
To  make  us  of  true  light  participate. 
Whereby  our  steps  from  darkness  are  refrained. 
How  greatly  are  we  bound  to  praise  the  Lord 
For  this  great  blessing  of  his  sacred  word ! 

From  Elisac's  Mcmoriall. 


FINIS 


INDEX  TO  AUTHORS 

"With  first  Lines  of  their  Poems 

Anonymous 

Loe  here  the  pearle  2 
Once  I  thought,  but  falsely  thought  18 
O  Night,  O  jealous  Night,  repugnant  to  my  meas- 
ures i^ 

A.   W. 

Begin,  and  half  is  done,  yet  half  undone  remains        67 
It  chanced  of  late  a  shepherd's  swain  68 

Ye  walls  that  shut  me  up  from  sight  of  men  70 

Barley,   William 

Those  eyes  that  set  my  fancy  on  a  fire  17 

Bate f on ^    Thomas 

Music,  some  think,  no  music  is  71 

Beaumont^  Francis  (1586-1616) 

Shake  off  your  heavy  trance  72 

Ye  should  stay  longer  if  we  durst  72 

Beaumont  tS  Fletcher 

Tis  mirth  that  fills  the  veins  with  blood  73 

Lay  a  garland  on  my  hearse  n-\ 

Bolton^  Edmund 

As  withereth  the  primrose  by  the  river  66 

95 


The  Queen's  Garland 
Breton^  Nicholas  (1545-1626) 

In  the  merry  month  of  May  13 

Good  Muse,  rock  me  asleep  15 

Ryrd^   William  (1538-1623) 

My  mind  to  me  a  Kingdom  is  lo 

Upon  a  summer's  day  Love  went  to  swim  13 

Campion^   Thomas  (—1619) 

I  care  not  for  these  ladies  60 

Thou  art  not  fair,  for  all  thy  red  and  white  62 

When  thou  must  home  to  shades  of  underground  62 
Blame  not  my  cheeks,  though  pale  with  love  they 

be  63 

Carlton^  Richard 

Content  thyself  with  thy  estate  65 

Daviesj  Sir  John  (1570-1626) 

If  you  would  know  the  love  which  I  you  bear  82 

Long  have  I  lived  at  Court,  yet  learned  not  all  this 
while  83 

Del^ker^   Thomas  (1570-1641) 

Golden  slumbers  kiss  your  eyes  8i 

Donne^  John  (1573-163') 

Absence,  hear  thou  my  protestation  87 

Dow/and^  John  (1562-1615) 

Go  crystal  tears !  like  to  the  morning  showers  43 

96 


Index  to  Authors 
Drayton,  Michael  (1563-1631) 

Since  there's  no  help,  come  let  us  kiss  and  part  43 

Corbo,  as  thou  cam'st  this  way  44 

Elizabeth^  Queen  (1533-1603) 

The  doubt  of  future  foes  5 

Oh.  Fortune!  how  thy  restlesse  wavering  state  7 

Fairfax^  Edward  (—1632) 

Wit's  rich  Triumph.  Wisdom's  Clory  i 

Fletcher^  John  (15641616) 

All  ye  woods,  and  trees,  and  bowers  74 

Away,  delights !  go  seek  some  other  dwelling  75 

Greene^  liobert  (15601592) 

Weep  not.  my  wanton,  smile  upon  my  knee  40 

When  gods  had  framed  the  sweet  of  women's  face      42 

Hey  wood ^   Thomas  (—1636) 

Ye  little  birds  that  sit  and  sing  76 

Pack,  clouds,  away,  and  welcome,  day  77 

Jonefy  Robert 

Fair  women  like  fair  jewels  are  64 

Jon/on,  Ben  (1575-^637) 

Slow.  slow,  fresh  fount,  keep  time  with  my  salt 

tears  88 

Thou  more  than  most  sweet  glove  89 

97 


The  Queen's  Garland 

Queen,  and  huntress,  chaste  and  fair  89 

Still  to  be  neat,  still  to  be  drest  90 

Buzz!  quoth  the  Blue-Fly  91 

Have  you  seen  but  a  bright  Iily  grow  91 

Drink  to  me  only  with  thine  eyes  92 

Underneath  this  sable  hearse  93 

Lodge^   Thomas  (1555-1625) 

Love  in  my  bosom  like  a  bee  35 

First  shall  the  heavens  want  starry  light  37 

Phoebe  sat  38 

A^^j  John  (i534-'6oo) 

Cupid  and  my  Campaspe  played  7 

My  Daphne's  hair  is  twisted  gold  8 

Marlowe^   Chriftopher  (1564-1593) 

Come  live  with  me  and  be  my  love  46 

Morley^    Thomas  (1557-1604) 

April  is  in  my  mistress'  face  39 

Munday,  Antony  (1553-^633) 

Beauty  sat  bathing  by  a  spring  24 

Mundi/^  John 

Were  I  a  king.  I  might  command  content  17 

Nafhe^    Thomas  (1567-1600) 

spring,  the  sweet  Spring,  is  the  year's  pleasant  king     79 
Fair  summer  droops,  droop  men  and  beasts  there- 
fore 80 

98 


Index  to  Authors 

Nixon ^  AnthonTj 

Her  scepter  was  the  rule  of  righteousness  93 

Peele,  George  (1558-1598) 

His  golden  locks  time  hath  to  silver  turned  39 

B^aleigh^  Sir  Walter  (1552-1618) 

If  all  the  World  and  love  were  young  48 

Conceit,  begotten  by  the  eyes  49 

Co,  soul,  the  body's  guest  51 

Sackville^  Thomas^  Ear  I  of  Dor fet 

(1536-1608) 

Mydnyght  was  cum,  and  every  vitall  thing  9 

Shakefpeare^   William  (1564-1616) 

If  she  be  made  of  white  and  red  54 

You  spotted  snakes  with  double  tongue  54 

The  ousel-cock,  so  black  of  hue  55 

Hark !  hark !  the  lark  at  heaven's  gate  sings  56 

Done  to  death  by  slanderous  tongues  56 

Take.  O.  take  those  lips  away  57 

Come,  thou  monarch  of  the  vine  57 

Full  fathom  five  thy  father  lies  58 

Where  the  bee  sucks,  there  suck  I  58 

Crabbed  Age  and  Youth  59 

Sidney^  Mary  ^  Countefs  of  Pem- 
broke (1557-1621) 

I  sing  divine  Astrea's  praise  25 

99 


The  Queen's  Garland 

Sidney^  Sir  Philip  (1554-1586) 

Phoebus,  farewell !  a  sweeter  Saint  I  serve  28 

My  true  love  hath  my  heart,  and  I  have  his  29 

Come,  shepherds'  weeds,  become  your  master's  mind  29 

We  love,  and  have  our  loves  rewarded  30 

Fair  eyes,  sweet  lips,  dear  heart,  that  foolish  I  3 1 

High  way,  since  you  my  chief  Parnassus  be  31 

Join  mates  in  mirth  to  me  32 

Spenfer^  Edmund  (155 2-1599) 

Ye  tradeful  Merchants  that  with  weary  toil  2 1 

Shepherds  that  wont  on  pipes  of  oaten  reed  2 1 

One  day  I  wrote  her  name  upon  the  strand  22 

But  if  ye  saw  that  which  no  eyes  can  see  23 

Weelks^   Thomas 

Lady,  the  birds  right  fairly  60 

Wotton^  Sir  Henri/  (1567-1639) 

How  happy  is  he  born  or  taught  78 


r=jjfirt  #=^^ /=»j^ 


THE  TABLE 

or.  Index  to  first  Lines 


A 

A  bsence.  hear  thou  my  protestation  {Donne)  87 

All  ye  woods,  and  trees,  and  bowers  {Fletcher)  74 

April  is  in  my  mistress'  face  {Morley)  39 

As  withereth  the  primrose  by  the  river  {Bolton)  66 

Away,    delights!    go   seek   some   other   dwelling 

{Fletcher)  75 

B 

I>eauty  sat  bathing  by  a  spring  {Antony  Munday)  24 
Begin,  and  half  is  done,  yet  half  undone  remains 

(A.  W.)  67 
Blame  not  my  cheeks,  though  pale  with  love  they 

be  {Campion)  63 

But  if  ye  saw  that  which  no  eyes  can  see  {Spenser)  23 

Buzz!  quoth  the  Blue-Fly  {Jonson)  91 

c 

#^ome  live  with  me  and  be  my  love  {Marlowe)  46 
Come,  shepherds*  weeds,  become  your  master's 

mind  {Sidney)  29 

Come,  thou  monarch  of  the  vine  {Shakespeare)  57 

Conceit,  begotten  by  the  eyes  {PMleigh)  49 

Content  thyself  with  thy  estate  {Carlton)  65 

Crabbed  Age  and  Youth  {Shakespeare)  59 

Cupid  and  my  Campaspe  played  {Lyly)  7 

lOI 


The  Queen^s  Garland 

D 

"Tjone  to  death  by  slanderous  tongues  (Shake- 
speare) t6 
Drink  to  me  only  with  thine  eyes  (Jonson)  92 


"pair  eyes,  sweet  lips,  dear  heart,  that  foolish  I 

(Sidney)  31 
Fair  summer  droops,  droop  men  and  beasts  there- 
fore (Nashe)  80 
Fair  women  like  fair  jewels  are  (Jones)  64 
First  shall  the  heavens  want  starry  light  (Lodge)  37 
Full  fathom  five  thy  father  lies  (Shakespeare)  58 


r^o  crystal  tears!  like  to  the  morning  showers 

(Dowland)  43 

Golden  slumbers  kiss  your  eyes  (Dekker)  81 

Good  Muse,  rock  me  asleep  (Breton)  15 

Gorbo,  as  thou  cam'st  this  way  (Drayton)  44 

Go,  soul,  the  body's  guest  (Raleigh)  51 

H 

"Oark!   hark!   the   lark  at   heaven's   gate   sings 

(Shakespeare)  56 

Have  you  seen  but  a  bright  lily  grow  (/onson)  91 

Her  scepter  was  the  rule  of  righteousness  (Nixon)  93 

High  way.  since  you  my  chief  Parnassus  be  (Sidney)  3 1 

His  golden  locks  time  hath  to  silver  turned  (Peele)  39 

How  happy  is  he  born  or  taught  (  Wotton)  78 

102 


Index  to  First  Lines 


T  cafe  not  for  these  ladies  (Campion)  60 

If  all  the  World  and  love  were  young  (Raleigh)  48 

If  she  be  made  of  white  and  red  (Shakespeare)  54 
If  you  would  know  the  love  which  I  you  bear 

(Dacies)  82 

In  the  merry  month  of  May  (Breton)  13 

I  sing  divine  Astrea's  praise  (Mary  Sidney)  25 

It  chanced  of  late  a  shepherd's  swam  (A.  W.)  68 


I 


oin  mates  in  mirth  to  me  (Sidney)  32 

L 

T  ady.  the  birds  right  fairly  (  Weelks)  60 

Lay  a  garland  on  my  hearse  (Beaumont  and 

Fletcher)  73 

Loe  here  the  pearle  (Anonymous)  2 

Long  have  I  lived  at  Court,  yet  learned  not  all  this 

while  (Dacies)  83 

Love  in  my  bosom  like  a  bee  (Lodge)  35 

M 

'KMvsic.  some  think,  no  music  is  (Bateson)  71 

My  Daphne's  hair  is  twisted  gold  (Lyly)  8 

Mydnyght  was  cum,  and  every  vitall  thing  (Sack- 

cille)  9 

My  mind  to  me  a  Kingdom  is  (Byrd)  10 

My  true  love  hath  my  heart,  and  I  have  his  (Sid- 
ney) 29 

103 


The  Queen's  Garland 
o 

l^h.  Fortune !  how  thy  restlesse  -wavering  state 

(Queen  Elizabeth)  j 

O  Night,  O  jealous  Night,  repugnant  to  my  meas- 
ures (Anonymous)  19 
Once  I  thought,  but  falsely  thought  (Anonymous)      1 8 
One    day    I    wrote    her    name    upon    the    strand 
(Spenser)                                                           22 

P 
l>ack.  clouds,  away,   and  welcome,   day  (Hey- 

icood)  77 

Phoebe  sat  (Lodge)  38 

Phcrbus.  farewell !  a  sweeter  Saint  I  serve  (Sidney)     28 

Q 

/^ueen,  and  huntress,  chaste  and  fair  (Jonson)         89 

s 

Ohake  off  your  heavy  trance  (Beaumont)  72 

Shepherds  that  wont  on  pipes  of   oaten  reed 

(Spenser)  2 1 

Since  there's  no  help,  come  let  us  kiss  and  part 

(Drayton)  43 

Slow,  slow,  fresh  fount,  keep  time  with  my  salt 

tears  (Jonson)  88 

Spring,  the  sweet  Spring,  is  the  year's  pleasant  king 

(Nashe)  79 

Still  to  be  neat,  still  to  be  drest  (Jonson)  90 

r 

ake,  O,  take  those  lips  away  (Shakespeare)         57 
The  doubt  of  future  foes  (Queen  Elizabeth)       5 

104 


Index  to  First  Lines 

The  ousel-cock,  so  black  of  hue  (Shakespeare)  55 

Those  eyes  that  set  my  fancy  on  a  fire  (Barhy)  17 
Thou    art   not  fair,   for   all   thy  red  and  white 

(Campion)  62 
Thou  more  than  most  sweet  glove  (Jonson)  89 
'Tis  mirth  that  fills  the  veins  with  blood  (Beau- 
mont and  Fletcher)  73 

u 

T  Tnderneath  this  sable  hearse  (/onson)  93 

Upon  a  summer's   day  Love  went  to  swim 
(Byrd)  13 

W 

TY7eep  not.  my  wanton,  smile   upon   my  knee 

(Greene)  40 

We  love,  and  have  our  loves  rewarded  (Sidney)         30 
Were  I  a  king,  I  might  command  content  (John 

Mundy)  1 7 

When  gods  had  framed  the  sweet  of  women's  face 

(Greene)  42 

When  thou  must  home  to  shades  of  underground 

(Campion)  62 

Where  the  bee  sucks,  there  suck  I  (Shakespeare)      58 
Wit's  rich  Triumph.  Wisdom's  Glory  (Fairfax)         i 

Y 

"Ve  little  birds  that  sit  and  sing  (Heyicood)  76 

Ye  should  stay  longer  if  we  durst  (Beaumont)  72 

Ye  tradeful  Merchants  that  with  weary  Xoi\(Spenser)  2 1 

Ye  walls  that  shut  me  up  from  sight  of  men  (A.  W.)  70 
You  spotted  snakes  with  double  tongue  (Shake- 

speare)  54 

105 


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